Fancy Time with the Beautiful People?

"Muggles imagining that they own us? Does insanity run in their families?" -Draco
"It is just an inferiority complex, my precious. They are Muggle creatures, after all." -Lucius

Fancy Time with the Beautiful People?
Chapter I: Invitation to the Masquerade

(A/N: Honestly dedicated to my left hand. Also, an abnormally large "Thank you hon!" for my dear friend and very snarky beta The Real Luciusmistress. I'd love to get any feedback ...and for us with good taste and tender heart: All. Malfoycest. Is. Consensual. ...at least if I'm writing it.)

They feel quite similar; the heat of the Indian summer and Harry's burning hatred inside for not getting any information about anything that is happening. Except that cool air of evenings and nights is merciful, the pain and hatred the young Gryffindor feels is there all the time. The nights are terrible as he constantly dreams about Cedric's death. He is so consumed by his guilt and sorrow he simply doesn't care about Dudley's pitiful attempts to taunt him by constantly telling Harry that he must be a faggot.

Still, Harry hates the days even more. The messages he gets from Ron and Hermione are vague to the extreme. They seem to know something important but don't tell that to Harry. Why? Ron and Hermione are his best friends and they have never acted like that. Though the black-haired boy misses them, every new message starts to feel more like a Howler screaming that "I have a secret and I'm not going to tell you!" and so Harry's longing for them is tainted with fiery hate. Still, the fact that the Gryffindor boy doesn't get any letters from Dumbledore feels even worse. He craves for information about what Voldemort is doing and Dumbledore sure as Hell knows that if anyone does. Harry feels used as he has gone through so much and is now just thrown away like a broken toy.

(No one cares about me. No one is telling me anything. And I deserve to know! I SAW Voldemort's return. I battled against him and managed to escape ...but Cedric didn't. And I suggested that we should touch the goblet together... If it wasn't for me, he would still be alive...)

Harry suffocates his tears. At least something useful that he has learned from living with the Dursleys. But now... he hears soft footsteps. This is something new. No Dursley would walk towards him quietly. The Gryffindor boy sees a very familiar house elf. The unexpected sight makes Harry's heart leap with joy.

"Dobby! Why you are here?" (Maybe...)
"Master Harry! Master Dumbledore has something very important to tell you. Too dangerous and important to owl you. Master Dumbledore sent Dobby to take you with me."
"Oh... wow. You will Apparate with me? To Hogwarts?" (Now I will hear everything! How could I ever have doubted Dumbledore?)
"Yes but we are in a hurry, Master Harry! Follow me quickly and no one will notice the sound."
"Of course."

As he follows Dobby, Harry notices something weird. The house-elf is not wearing its usual completely tasteless mixture of clothing but a simple towel covering its lower body.

"Dobby? Where are your clothes?"
"Clothes? Yes, Dumbledore ordered Dobby to take the clothes off because these might draw unwanted attention and Master Dumbledore does not want that."
"I see." (Very unlike Dumbledore. He cares about house-elves like no one else and surely knows how happy Dobby is now when he is a free elf. This must be something really important.)

Harry takes Dobby's hand and they Apparate. But the place is not Hogwarts and the man he sees is definitely not Dumbledore. Black silk dress robes partially unbuttoned, silvery-blond hair tied with a velvet bow, pale hand holding a wand and cruel smirk laced with welcoming happiness on his equally pale face. Lucius Malfoy. Lucius. Fucking. Malfoy. Despite his complete amazement, the young Gryffindor draws immediately his wand only to hear Lucius' soft drawl as the Dark wizard utters his spell like an afterthought.

"Accio wand."

Harry's wand is torn from his hand to Lucius' and he feels fear like an icicle crawling through his spine, something even Voldemort had not been able to make him experience. As hatred is often born out of fear, the young Gryffindor runs towards him, the only thing in his mind is to punch that angular face. Lucius casts another spell, something Harry has never heard of but certainly is able to feel as magical silver chains, thin but very strong, bind him to a black velvet cough which probably is very comfortable but not for him. The blond Pureblood shakes his head in mock pity, his amused drawl increasing Harry's hatred.

"Oh, my. So eager and so easily fooled. Typical Gryffindor, all bravery and no brain whatsoever."
"Fuck off, Voldemort's lapdog!"
"Ahh, threats. Very nice."

Lucius turns away, completely ignoring Harry's presence, which allows the young wizard to examine his surroundings. Absolutely not to admire the Malfoy Manor where he seems to be but to gain a better look, perhaps something to help himself in his desperate state. Nothing seems to be of help, though, the magical bindings are tight, not painfully so but making him unable to do anything else but wriggle and that pleasure Harry. Will. Not. Give to Lucius.

So Harry is inside a luxurious dining room, with black velvet curtains hanging from the walls, silver pillars with magical flowers growing and curled around them: black roses with silver lining on their petals, flowers oozing dark, nauseatingly decadent scent. A large mirror, paintings of now-deceased Malfoys and, of course, a family portrait. A probably twelve-year-old Draco in dark green velvet dress robes pointing at Harry with a smirk so like his father's, Lucius' left hand covered with a black leather glove wrapped around him, Narcissa dressed in a simple, elegant white dress, her blue eyes dreamy but the same cruel and amused smirk on her lips like pale rose petals. And Lucius, fucking Lucius Malfoy looking like he is the centre of the Wizarding world, the same expression and cold, grey eyes staring at Harry with no emotion whatsoever. Harry's hatred, red-hot and searing, suffocates all fear he should feel as Lucius is surely going to summon Voldemort here, if not just now, at least very soon.

The house-elf changes form. Of course it is not Dobby but a pitiable, bruised creature which bows before Lucius.

"Master. Grumpy has fulfilled Master's task."
"Very good, Grumpy. Is Draco where he is supposed to be?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Now, go and iron your left ear because... I just feel like it."
"Yes, Master. Thank you Master."

The house-elf bows and vanishes.

(I'd prefer to find a more inventive reason for punishing a house-elf but for now, the situation is just too delicious to think about such unimportant details. And I am rather sure that I will get more reactions from my guest with this blatant display of ...honesty.)

Lucius feels a slight tingle of disgust about the last word. Breaking good, old habits is not pleasurable.

"You depraved disgusting bastard! So good Dobby is not yours anymore."
"Well, its hair was useful still because I got you here, dear Harry. And even you can figure out that I am not going to try to trade you to get that dysfunctional creature back."
"Draco. You are now allowed to come here."
"Yes, Father."
(What is this? Malfoy sounds like that bloody house-elf?)

The younger Pureblood walks reluctantly inside. His eyes are downcast and he is wearing a simple black cotton robe. There is something very disturbing in Draco's movements. All his pride is gone and he looks fearful and defeated. He walks towards Lucius like waiting for a Dementor's kiss but he is not fighting. Not crying but only because he seems to be too afraid to cry. Too afraid to do anything but obey.

"Closer, my son. And keep that expression, you are not allowed to look at me unless I order you to do so."
"Yes, Father."
"Now you should get on your knees, as I would really like to have those sweet lips of yours around my cock now, Draco. And don't even think about trying to bite me, as I remember you did not appreciate my little lesson from that uncivilized behaviour of yours."
"N-no... Father... I..."
"Stupid slut. Won't you ever learn that there is no such a thing as a word "no" for me."

Lucius backhands Draco harshly, knocking the slender boy on the floor. The blond Slytherin is sobbing and tears merge with blood flowing down his pointed cheek. The elder Pureblood takes a strong, painful grip on his son's hair and forces Draco to kneel before him. There is fear and disgust in the boy's eyes but the worst thing is the helpless defeat Harry sees in Draco's expression when he starts unbuttoning his father's trousers with trembling fragile hands. One single tear runs down the boy's pale cheek as he starts to lick Lucius' cock.

"What a good little cock-sucker you are, Draco. Then again, it is no wonder for you have been ...practicing that quite a lot. I happen to feel rather benevolent today, so if you make it good enough, I will not fuck your arse today. I remember you were bleeding the last time."

(Malfoy... Draco... acts like a git because of that? His father rapes him! All the time he is at home? It's terrible... much worse than anything Dursleys ever did to me. Worse than what Voldemort tried to do...) "Let him go you fucking deranged perverted rapist!"

Lucius arches his left eyebrow, his eyes showing only casual indifference.

"What is your point exactly, Harry? Draco is my son and therefore my property to use in which ways I ever want. And he is good for nothing but to be my whore. Ahh... good whore. A failure in everything else. So afraid of me he will never yess... never speak about this to anyone. Mmh... more of your tongue, Draco. Or... well, I think he tried to get help once. From you the first time you met but I suppose you were not interested. However, I... suck my cock inside your mouth, slut... just like that... I had to punish him quite a lot for that. There is nothing like a good Cruciatus to keep one's property behaving."

All thoughts of Voldemort or Harry's own helpless state are gone while he watches Lucius forcing his whole cock into his son's throat. He does not want to watch but somehow it is like he would not show compassion if not taking even a small part of the suffering the sadistic demon inflicts on the defeated boy. Draco gags and makes helpless noises as his father rapes his mouth in fast, brutal movements. The young black-haired wizard suppresses a gasp of relief when Lucius comes inside Draco's mouth.

(At least that torture stopped ...for now. But... he tried to... get someone to save him. He recognised that I was the one who... lived instead of Voldemort. He is the son of a Death Eater and thought I was his only hope to end this nightmare. And I... I taunted him. This is MY fault!) "Stop it you disgusting perverted piece of goat vomit! Someone will find you out and lifetime in Azkaban is too kind for you! I will..." (What can I do? I'm bound with some magical shackles, without a wand and-) Harry's train of thought just stops. This is beyond his worst nightmares ever.

"You will ...what? Try to save my fuck-toy and offer yourself for me to use as I wish instead?"
"I..." (No... I can't do that... but I could have helped him... when he still had some courage left.) "You fucking slimy slug of a Voldemort's arse-licker! Don't... If you release him first!"

"I somehow ...expected that. But no trades here. Draco is so much more experienced, very skilled I would say, as I started teaching him when he was eight. Though I would like to have someone not so used for a change... someone not so thoroughly broken, someone who still dares to fight me. Very good that I have you here, now. My son is getting a bit too obedient and ...used for my tastes, but I think my fellow Death Eaters will still enjoy such a talented little slut. I guess Draco will get used to gang rapes, double penetration and constant Cruciatus curses. ...And he will be very grateful if I will take him back after that."

(Malfoy... Draco... reduced to that stage and the fucking depraved bastard thinks I'm going to be his next toy! Somehow he will pay! But... now when no one is interested in me or Draco... no one except bloody Lucius Malfoy... he'll have all the summer to do as he wishes... fuck. Fuck. Fuck.)

Lucius lets out a low chuckle as he gestures for Draco to lick his cock clean. The boy obeys, only a little suppressed pained voice coming out of his mouth.
"Very, very good. Such a talented mouth you have, slut. I promised not to bugger you if you sucked my cock well enough..." There are slight overtones of amusement in Lucius' voice, now harsh but lustful.
"I... was good enough, Father? Oh, thank you, thankyou-" The sick affection merged with fear in Draco's voice makes Harry even more disgusted.
"But... I lied."
"Ah... you are so good to me, Lucius." (I just can't wait for Potter's reaction.)
(The sudden chance in Draco's voice... What the fuck is going on here?)
"As I always should, my precious. You are an excellent actor." (Ahh... all the reactions the unsophisticated Gryffindor will get... the different flavour of disgust, the shame and the hatred, both towards us and himself... and there is so much more to come.)

Lucius smirks and his grey gaze, now decadently lascivious, meets Draco's, the younger Malfoy positively glowing with wicked lust. Draco licks his lips and rises from his kneeling position, caressing his father's partially bared chest with his skilful nimble fingers and licking the elder Pureblood's nipples with slow teasing movements. Lucius tears his son's simple black robe away, baring his pale nudity, flawless except for bruises on his face, and his cock, hard and glistening with precome, both to himself and the ...audience. Silver nipple piercings and pierced tongue for what Harry can see from the glittering silver every time Malfoy bares his tongue to lick Lucius' nipples, all the while unbuttoning his father's dress robes.

Lucius caresses Draco's slim body, pinching his nipple rings hard, his hands moving downwards, tracing all the sensitive parts of his son's body for he knows Draco's body even better that the androgynous Slytherin himself, finally touching his son's cock and spreading precome on Draco's length while the Malfoy heir bites his father's nipples and traces his chest like drawing dreamlike pictures on Lucius' beautiful body with his tongue and slides his hand inside Lucius' trousers and reaches for his father's cock and balls, working Lucius into hardness again, for Draco is also rather experienced in ways to give pleasure for his beloved father.

(I... Draco enjoys being fucked... by his father? And I felt guilt for not helping him! Damn all Malfoys to bloody fucking Hell!)
"Malfoy, you are a sick fuck! You ENJOY feeling your father's prick inside your bloody arse! I...."

Harry finds himself lost for words. If anything, this is beyond his imagination. Like his father before, Draco ignores the young Gryffindor completely.

"Well... I do love the stage... and ohh... sometimes I love to have an audience. But my skills, you are the one to thank for that, Father."
"You're flattering me way too much, Draco. As a true Malfoy, you yess... you were born to deception, I just had and have to cultivate you which... ah... is very important but also a rather enjoyable process." (And you understand so much more about this now, my cunning demon-child.)
"So it is. Mmh... Father, fuck me? Please?"
"Well... I promised you... but you were very skilful with that pretty mouth of yours, so I should stay true to my promise..." (I guess I will never get enough of your pleas.)
"I thought you are a true Malfoy too, Father... oh yess... not so fond of keeping your promises."

Lucius lets out a low chuckle and slaps Draco's pointed cheek sharply, leaving a red mark and forcing a moan from his son's lips. He hits again, harder and moves slowly downwards, biting the silvery-blond boy's nipples.

"Ahh... I ache to feel you inside me... filling me completely... oh yess... claiming my body with your seed... Father, fuck me hard, please? Or slowly... any way you ever want?"
"Shut the fuck up, ferret boy! You perverted disgusting piece of shit!"

That helps Draco to gain some self-control and he takes his wand from the oaken table.

"I'm having an intimate moment with my father here so it will be you shutting your filthy mouth, scarhead. Silencio!"
"Not so fond of an audience anymore, my dragon?" Lucius smirks, his expression very amused with undertones of violent lust.
"Well... now I prefer him just to watch. He is a bit too ...loud. If you don't mind, Father?"
"Ah. I understand. You must have became quite tired of his pathetic attempts to insult you during your time at Hogwarts. Then again, I prefer you loud right now." (Very good, gaining your self-control back and casting a spell while aroused to the point of begging. And I will give you more to beg for as you do love the stage, my decadent actor.)

Now Lucius kneels before Draco, sucking his son's aching hardness wholly inside his mouth. The beautiful Slytherin can't but thrust back and as his father continues, sucking Draco's cock with careful, controlled movements and teasing all sensitive spots just behind the boy's cock head, the nimble Pureblood drowns in his pleasure like into a silver river, his half-open grey eyes misty with lust, moans of enjoyment only interrupted by helpless incoherent pleas for his father's cock flowing from his lips reddened by the blowjob.

Harry closes his eyes but it doesn't help very much because he still hears the voices. Voices of Malfoy's disgusting debauched pleasure and there is no darkness behind the young Gryffindor's eyes but nauseating scenes of Lucius and Draco, like a loop, endlessly inside his mind. Harry is glad he can't scream. Or maybe he wants to scream. He is so filled with this unexpected, complete disgust that he doesn't even think about himself or the state he is in. And now there is Malfoy's voice, lustful and devoid of all self-control, a voice Harry never wanted to hear.

"Father... please... I... ahh... will come inside... your mouth."
"No, my son. You won't. You will perform for our audience ...and you are going to enjoy it."

The amused malice in Lucius' drawl. The footsteps. Harry opens his eyes as cold shivers like worms with spikes growing out of their slimy, boneless bodies creep down his spine. And now he so much hopes that he would have kept his eyes closed. Draco, wide-eyed with pure lust, naked and biting his lower lip as an attempt to hold his climax back, his hard prick right before Harry's face. And Lucius, kneeling before both of them, his expression even more cruel than before. The elder Pureblood removes Harry's glasses and touches Draco's cock lightly.

"Would you like to come now, my silver dragon?"
"I.... Yess..."

The sibilant sound of pleasure too long denied and the blond Slytherin's semen splashing right on Harry's face. Inside his mouth. He is barely able to close his eyes and now starts to gag, still voiceless. This is the moment where Harry's brain just stops to function. Malfoy's. Come. On. His. Face.

"I'd love to hear young Harry's reaction now. Finite incantatem."
"Fuck... off... I... you deviant disgusting inbreeding..." Harry's words come out interrupted by gags and spits, trying to get Draco's come out of his mouth. He succeeds in that but the taste... the taste lingers inside like the worst nightmare he ever had and the young Gryffindor knows that the only way he can get rid of that taste is to swallow and that he Does. Not. Want. To. Do.

"I remember you wanted a masquerade party, Draco? Now we have taken our masks off and so has my house elf but you made a quite a fitting mask for our little saviour there."
"Yes, father, it suits him rather well. That could also be called ...purification."
Draco sniggers.
(I am able to see that bastard's ...no, both fucked-up Malfoys' expressions inside my mind without even looking at them. What a fucking GIFT.)
"Yes, my son. And a beautiful sight to top that. I think your lessons in the fine art of painting were not a complete waste of time, while your tendencies do lie more in the... what do you little tradition-breaking miscreants call that again?"
"Modern performance art, Father. I knew you were not disappointed of my choice, as you have spanked me quite a lot as art criticism ...especially for my best artworks."
"Ah, yes. You are good and while I consider that scene somewhat declassé, you have some paths of your own to tread. And this one is absolutely a masterpiece. I especially like the symbolism of your pure seed combined with that lightning-bolt scar. However, as Harry was so excellent a canvas for your art, Draco, I think he should be allowed to see something beautiful, something free."

Lucius puts Harry's glasses back again. Then there is a wordless spell so Harry can't hear it but he's certainly able to feel it. He opens his eyes because of the sudden pain. Rows of sharp pins growing right over and under his eyes, so sharp they would pierce his eyes if he tries to shut them again, letting the almost-transparent goo flow down his cheeks and most probably Draco praising his father for adding a nice effect to his "art". And Lucius would surely heal Harry's eyes after that. And the pins... he can't see them but they must be silver too.

"Bloody fetish-minded posturing sick fucks!"

Lucius and Draco are kissing each other hungrily, their tongues entwined and Draco, half-erect already, opens the silver buttons of Lucius' dress robes, fast but skilful movements of his nimble fingers, like he has been doing that more times than both of them are able to count. Well, he probably has and Harry does not want to think about that. Lucius breaks the kiss and looks at Harry like the Gryffindor boy is just an insect, not even irritable enough to be crushed.

"Oh, you are so unsophisticated. Would you like to punish him for his lack of taste, Draco?" (We'll see. I think you have understood the meaning of true punishment but I have to test you from time to time. You will become nothing but perfect as you are the Malfoy Heir.)
"Mm... no, Father."

The younger blond's voice is casual with only slight undertones of lust and his eyes mirror the amusement of his father's as he looks at Harry, not interrupting his task... no, the pleasure of unbuttoning Lucius' clothes. The dress-robe is already carefully folded on the table, showing the fact that Lucius is wearing nothing beneath it except dark green silk trousers ...and this certain sight that the elder Dark wizard is very, very aroused.

(The bastard must be so FUCKING PROUD of his perverted son. I knew I hated Malfoy but... if that was his facade and this is the real Draco...)

The only thing that prevents Harry from being sick all over the oh-so-clean floor of the Malfoy Manor is that his stomach is empty because of the less-than-adequate amount of food he has been getting from the Dursleys.

"I think that Potter would like to be cursed right now. Even something to draw attention from this beautiful sight he is too ...crude to appreciate or even to comprehend with his sad excuse of a Gryffindor brain." (Really, not the slightest understanding of good Pureblood customs.)
"Very good, my son. You do have grasped the finesse of delicate torture ...as I expected." (I knew you would succeed. Just two years ago you would have loved to try your Cruciatus practise on our beautifully innocent prisoner ...stupid and straight-forward like the Dark Lord and that would have made me very disappointed indeed. But now... how much you have grown, my demon-child.)
"It is one of my tasks as the Malfoy heir and a rather enjoyable one if I might add, Father." (I know how aware you are of my feelings ...but you love me telling that. You love words, Lucius and so do I.)

Draco smirks lasciviously and folds Lucius' trousers on the ornamented oaken table very carefully. Almost as carefully as he shows his father a very clear sight of his perfect, hairless arse. Lucius' eyes are now warm with decadent, twisted love. He teases his son's entrance with gentle movements, Draco is purring from pleasure while stealing a look of his father's adorable, dominant nudity. The moon-pale long hair, the lean form belying Lucius' power and willpower and the hard cock... Draco suppresses a gasp of pure lust.

"What a show-off you are, my lovely libertine. A deliciously beautiful show-off though. Accio The Golden Fluid of Sodomy. Only the best for my son."
"Father... I love you for not keeping your promise, at least this time."
"Well... you can consider this as art critique, my debauched darling."
"The best kind of it... even better that some of the reviews I have got in the 'Arts of Darkness' magazine." (I know you are reading it as you too like things dirty from time to time.)
"Too bad you cannot publish your last work there, my silver dragon. They would love it." (Oh yes they would ...but that would be too dangerous, even if you wrote that this was just a Muggle forced to drink Polyjuice potion with a hair from the Boy-Who-Lived."
"I don't mind it that much. Maybe the best things are just meant to stay in the family, Father." (And yes, they are.)
"Well, that might be so. Now, prepare yourself, my son." (Obedient because your own will and making that so-called Gryffindor’s Golden Boy feel so very ill at the same time... you love this.)

Lucius hands the crystal phial, filled with golden liquid glowing in its warmth, to Draco who takes it, opens it with his agile hands and smears the substance on his delicate fingers. Draco is as experienced as show-offish while he prepares himself with much more care than is actually necessary because of both his experience and the aroused state he is in. One finger sliding inside his rectum, slow teasing movements as the blond boy smears some more warm liquid around his entrance and inserts a second one. A third finger and Draco's movements grow more frantic as he starts to fuck himself with his fingers, moaning softly his father's name.

Lucius smiles lasciviously, knowing oh, so well how needy his son is and that he is the only one able to grant Draco that pleasure ...and that the androgynous Slytherin is the only one able to give his beautiful father that absolute ecstasy, too. The dance of predator and prey in a twisted mirror for they share both roles in the divinity of their incestuous union, Lucius and Draco knowing so well it is the perfection only a Malfoy can give or receive from another Malfoy.

"Father, please? I crave for you inside me... fuck me? Please?"
"Such an insatiable and decadent son I have. I will take you, I will fuck you hard so I suggest you should prepare me too."
"That bad slut for your father, Malfoy?"
"Jealous, Potter?"
"Well, he probably is, my moonskin incubus." Lucius caresses his son's bottom lightly.

"Though... his father was not a very good fuck when he was young. And as older... I remember Walden MacNair told me the same. Lousy with his tongue and his mouth."
"You are lying, you slippery fucking slug of a pitiful excuse of Voldemort's arse-licker!"
"Rimming? Oh, I remember James was especially incompetent at that. It was like he had no other use for his stupid tongue than trying to taunt Severus."

Harry finds himself lost for words trying not to think about what Lucius said, telling himself inside his head that it can't be true. Lucius takes a good grip on Draco's hand, the one that's fingering his arse, and turns him violently around as the boy moans louder, his eyes shining with impish lust. Draco summons the lubricant wandlessly into his hand, spreads it gently over his father's remarkable length and gives a light, mockingly chaste kiss on Lucius' cock head.

"I... yess, appreciate you paying attention to nice, little details, my precious." (And your ability to cast a wandless spell, a very simple one, though, even in the state you are now in.) "Now, on the table on your back, so that the Golden Boy will not miss anything as I'd rather not disappoint our audience."
"Oh, I will." (Not that you would ever miss the details yourself, father. I love you so much.)

A rather intriguing scenery, this one. The sight of Draco on the table on his back, legs spread to show every single detail of his pale, bruised nudity and aching lust, Lucius teasing his son's opening with his fingers and Harry in shackles, forced to keep his eyes open and trying to keep himself silent because he finds himself quite aware that his taunts and insults will just bring twisted enjoyment to the blond pair debauched beyond any imagination (as far as Harry knows).

"Mm... more... your cock... Father, please? Hard and rough? I... there has been so much time..."
"Yesterday. You are so insatiable, Draco."
"I... ahh... I am your son."

Draco smirks wickedly through the silvery haze of lust and Lucius gazes at his son lasciviously, sliding his cock inside Draco's tight channel slowly as the fey-like boy arches his arse against his father's cock, trying to force a deeper, harder fuck. Lucius does not react, just buries his whole length inside his son's tight channel in slow, tender thrusts so that Draco is able to feel his father's sac against his entrance, squirming around his father's cock to gain as much friction as possible.

"A little impatient, aren't we?"
"Yess... oh yess..."
"I see... take it like a good slut, my son." (A very good slut you are, indeed, but as a proud Malfoy, only for me. Though I have never lusted after anyone else so much, I still love you even more.)

Lucius withdraws his cock from his son's arse only to thrust it inside again, now harder and rougher, and Draco thrusts back, scratching Lucius' chest and pinching his nipples while the elder Dark wizard summons a simple silver dagger, sliding its blade into his son's skin with absolute care, a measure of his self-control.

"Lay still for a while, my little libertine."
"Yess... Father. Can I... have a taste?"
"Of course you can, my son. It is your pure blood, after all."

Lucius bends forward and licks the beautiful red streams on Draco's pale chest, taking as much blood as he can inside his mouth and then gestures for his son to rise on his elbows which Draco does, still impaled by his father's cock which now hits very nicely the younger Pureblood's prostate. Both Malfoys are kissing each other with fierce passion as Lucius shares the sweet, rich taste of Draco's blood, the deep red liquid flowing from his parted lips into his son's mouth and after a small swallow Draco lets the blood linger inside his mouth, savouring the taste. Lucius swallows his son's blood hungrily and while their tongues entwine in same passionate way as their bodies, little streams of blood flow from two angular, aristocratic faces.

Not breaking the kiss, the beautiful elder platinum-blond fucks his son slow, deep and hard, Draco moaning into his father's mouth and biting Lucius' lower lip, first gently and then harder, moving his right hand against his father's neck, drawing little droplets of blood from the scratches.

"Mmh... I presume I don't have to ah.. ask you if you like it rough, my sinful son."
"I think... ohh... you have to ask only if... you want to yess... to hear the answers from my lips, Father."
"It might be so. Tell me Draco, what do you want now?"
"I'd... love to taste your blood, the flavour... so rich as all your life-fluids... and some more of my own... while you fuck me so slow it feels like the sweetest torture imaginable... I... ah... want you to make me beg for you to fuck me harder... I want you to claim my body, to fuck me so hard it makes me almost unconscious, I want to be completely under your control, I want yess... oh yess... to be your painslut, Father."
"Very, very nice, my wanton imp. Have a taste, then."

Somehow Harry hates Lucius' and Draco's obsession about purity of blood more than ever, more than he ever could have imagined he would be able.

Lucius takes a grip of Draco's silvery-blond hair and forces his head against his neck and the boy licks greedily every single droplet of his father's blood. Licks are followed by bites, gentle and hard in chaotic mixture and Lucius lets out a hiss of pleasure and thrusts his cock inside Draco's channel harder and faster, skilfully reaching the sweet spot inside his son's arse. The nimble Slytherin moans against his father's neck and bites much harder than before. The pleasure-pain forces a loud moan from the elder Pureblood's luscious lips and he drags Draco from his hair back to the table rather violently but taking absolute care to not let his son's head hit the hard wood. Now Lucius is fucking Draco slowly again, gentle thrusts that make the boy squirm helplessly around his father's cock.

"It seems that you ...presume I like you being rough also?" (Delicious pain, my fallen angel. You are right and I definitely know you want more in return.)
"I... It seems... oh yess... seems to be so, Father." (How could you ever know my pleasures so absolutely well if you didn't share these too?)
"You are playing with fire, my beautiful slut and I will show that it burns. But taste your pain first."
"Mmh... thank you so much." (I don't know what will happen, but this will be good. Though it is always good with you, father.)

Lucius smears his fingers with Draco's blood and lets the boy lick them clean, which he does slowly, the sensitive feeling of his tongue the exact opposite of their violent sex and as sweet, too. The elder wizard touches his son's achingly hard cock ever so slightly and his movements are even slower now, like he is fucking Draco just as an afterthought.

"Father... harder? Hurt me? Please, let me be your painslut?"
"Ahh... isn't that pain for you?" (Of course it is. Your masochistic desire, not only the pleasure-pain but the way you love to give yourself to me, to use you as I wish.)
"Yes, it is... I... please Father? Fuck me out of my mind? You know I am your slut. I can't stand this anymore... please... harder... I need the pleasure of the pain... you know... so well... I would not succumb to anyone else like this... don't you want to fuck your son raw? I... please... be rough to me, Father?"
"And if I want to be gentle with you?" (So deliciously helpless, so needy. So tight, so perfect squirming around my cock.)
"Mmh... you don't really want to. Not now. I know you too well, Father."

Draco tilts his head upwards and smirks, wicked lust sparkling in his eyes. Lucius chuckles and backhands the young boy again, thrusting his cock deep inside Draco's deliciously obedient flesh belying a witty and cunning mind. The elder Pureblood fucks his son in hard, violent movements and Draco responds equally, their sex is now like Dionysian frenzy as Lucius thrusts his son’s velvet tightness raw, their fingernails and teeth tearing each other's skin, drawing more blood.

Controlled, aristocratic Malfoys or Malfoys without any masks fucking each other violently, Harry does not know which is worse. He is starting to hope that the perverted bastards bugger each other to death even if it would leave him bound and starving to death here.

"I... Father... I can't hold it back anymore... please..."
"Come for me, Draco."
"Father... oh yessss..."

Draco climaxes all over their bodies, his deliciously hurting channel clenching uncontrollably around Lucius' hard cock so tightly that his father claims his son's body with his seed almost instantly. For a moment they are just flesh, pure blood and pure semen merged together. Panting, Lucius grasps his wand.

"Accio Liquid of the Silver Dawn's Blessing."

The large mirror just behind them opens, revealing a closet inside it and a small, ebony bottle with a silver serpent curled around it floats slowly and stops in mid-air right before the elder wizard's hand. The mirror moves back into its original place, speaking.

"Now, that was a very enjoyable experience. If I might suggest, you really should shag here more often."

(Even the bloody mirror? As fucking perverted as those narcissistic pieces-of-shit who were watching themselves fucking each other. EACH OTHER. And I am still here. And the bloody pretentious bottle has to contain some kind of restoration potion so that they can rape me afterwards ...probably calling it a "dessert" or something. Fucking Malfoys. No. No fucking Malfoys. They will not just call Voldemort and be done with it. Why in the name of Merlin's bloody circumcised penis it had to be Malfoys?)

Well, this time Harry is right. Lucius drinks a few gulps from the bottle and pours the rest inside Draco's half-open mouth. Shining silver liquid which instantly causes both wizards to regain their strength and heals their wounds to top that.

"I... almost got carried away." Lucius smirks, his eyes interlocked with Draco's and their expressions so similar, satisfied ...for a while at least.
"Which means that I am good distraction?" Draco runs one agile hand through his father's moon-pale hair, licking his lips, clearly showing the tongue piercing in a very suggestive way.
"The best distraction I have ever had, my decadent drakeling. I know you would have liked to keep your bruises for at least a few days, to show me your 'You have fucked me out of my mind and hurt me so deliciously, so please use me some more?'-look but I prefer you perfectly flawless right now." (And you certainly don't mind that, as you love your 'I am pure and almost untouched, please, defile me, Father?'-look just as much.)
"I don't mind the least, Father. How could I, especially now when you really have almost fucked me out of my mind and we have a new toy to play with."
"Oh yes. We have been quite selfish, not giving any pleasure for our guest here. And it creates such a beautiful contrast..."
"Mmh... to have an experienced lover before and an innocent fuck-toy afterwards?"
"I would say so. Great minds think alike."

The earlier disgust is still there but now Harry has too many sickening things to wait for. The perverse "play" those completely fucked-up Malfoys had tortured him with hadn't left much thoughts for what was to happen him. But now... Bloody Hell. I am going to lose my virginity to... Harry's thoughts stop again. He does not know who would be worse, Malfoy or his father. And he absolutely does not want to think about that.

Harry hears Lucius' lazy drawl again, uttering another spell the young Gryffindor has never heard, but the effect is very, very clear. All Harry's clothing is completely removed and he can physically feel Lucius' and Draco's gazes on his skin. Somehow it is even worse than just plain rapist's lust, those two pairs of grey eyes that seem to examine him like he is a new piece of furniture or something.

"Innocent and unwilling. Such a delicious sight, isn't it?"
"Absolutely, Father. And as far as I know, Potter is a virgin to top that." Draco sniggers.
"Oh yes, he is. And he is thinking right now who would be worse to take that from him, you or me." (You so have inherited my ...tastes.)
"Better leave him wondering about that right now, don't you think, Father?" (Especially as I really don't know and that is for you to decide. Not only because I do love to obey you, but your Legilimency will tell you what would humiliate him more.)
"Would you prepare him, my son?" (Ah. The little hero will think this is just lubricant.)
"My pleasure, Father."
"Not too much, though. Too expensive to waste on him."
"Don't worry. As you certainly know, I am very well aware of the amount." (Mmh... Gift of Lilith. I love it.)

Draco takes another vial, this one glowing emerald-green, and smears some of the substance around Harry's tightly clenched entrance. Definitely not a lubricant but the best sex drug found in the Wizarding World ever, an invention of Severus Snape as a present for Lucius from the time they were lovers. One that relaxes the user and invokes or increases lust with a delicious side-effect of giving a change of visual perspective for the user. The Gryffindor boy wriggles in his chains. No help there as the chains hold him tightly and Draco seems to be very competent to keep Harry in his place.

(Probably the slutty fuck-up does all that with his fellow Slytherins too. The last thing I want is bloody Malfoy's filthy fingers up my arse! No, not the last thing. Don't think about it.)

The substance feels warm and Harry suppresses a gasp of relief when Malfoy steps backwards, seemingly not going to prepare the black-haired boy's arse for penetration.

"Young Harry has been quite filthy with his mouth. No manners whatsoever, nor the slightest understanding how to address his betters. I think he really needs to be spanked."
"Yes, Father. I really think it would teach him something."
"Fuck off, ferret! Guess you have been spanked by your sick father more times than you can count!"
"Oh, he certainly has been. Draco is well brought up, sophisticated and good-mannered, everything you are not, Harry. Though, what can one expect from a non-Pureblood, especially a Gryffindor raised by Muggle creatures, so inferior they really cannot be considered as humans."
"If you mean completely fucked-up slut who can't live without his equally disgustingly perverted father's cock up his arse, devious posturing elitist wanking to the possibility of being accepted as a Death Eater by 'well brought up', you may be right, you fucking Dementor vomit!"

"Oh, our little hero is getting a bit more creative with his insults, don't you think?"
"Yes, Father. Desperation seems to help people improve their talents at least somewhat. I'm rather interested to discover what else Potter will learn to do with his mouth."

Draco sniggers, clearly drawing immense enjoyment from Harry's helpless situation, and summons a house elf.

"Master. What can Twinky do to please Master?"
"We have a guest here, you see. Suck his cock."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

The house-elf takes Harry's flaccid cock inside its mouth and starts sucking softly. This is somehow even worse than what he expected. Now Harry feels like he himself is abusing the poor creature even while it is doing its perverted work on Malfoy's orders. And the worst thing is that despite the house-elf's definitely not arousing appearance, its wormlike tongue, wrinkled lips around Harry's prick and the toothless mouth taking the young black-haired boy's member deep inside its mouth in a way somewhat resembling walking through a swamp, it still feels good. Lucius' mouth twitches in amusement and he caresses Draco's chest, enjoying the feeling of soft skin as he wordlessly summons a riding crop.

"Now, that was rather creative, my son. Especially as I remember you ordered Twinky to remove its teeth with a screwdriver when your breakfast was not prepared properly."
"A lucky coincidence Father, as I didn't know anything about this until noon."
"Well, I happen to know how much you love surprise presents and this is your birthday, after all."
"Mmh... and I really love to share this present with you, Lucius."
"I know, Draco. But I really should teach our little hero some manners before he starts to feed your house elf."

A sharp blow on Harry's buttocks brings him to the world of here-and-now. He yelps, more from surprise than from the pain and blushes, realizing that while trying to shut away everything happening outside his head, he has been thrusting his cock inside the poor house-elf's mouth, almost suffocating the innocent creature.

"I... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."
"A promising start, I would say. You have so many things to be sorry about."
"It wasn't meant to you, you-"

Harry just can't find anything vile enough to say in his current state and Lucius grabs Harry from his hair and looks into the desperate shame in the boy's green eyes, his own expression very amused. The same devious delight Harry can hear oozing from Draco's voice.

"Twinky, stop now. You can lick Potter's come from the couch afterwards, though. He likes house elves, you see."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

Harry suppresses a sigh from losing that shamefully disgusting suction that felt so warm and good around his hardened cock and sees very clearly that Lucius certainly has not missed that reaction.

"Now, come here Twinky."
"Yes, Master."
"Go to the kitchen and thrust a fork through your left hand because you are too worthless to see me or my father naked."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

Lucius lets go of Harry's hair and continues his punishment. Harsh, painful strikes landing on the boy's arse, thighs and back, at unexpected intervals so that Harry can't prepare himself to the pain and finds himself screaming and his eyes watering. The humiliation he so does not want to show Lucius. Even worse is that when the pain dulls to a softly burning sensation, it feels exciting and Harry is still aroused. And the elder Pureblood is very aware of that, touching the young Gryffindor's prick gently.

"Draco, you were so right when you presumed the little hero is just jealous. And desperate to top that. He likes to get sucked off by a house-elf and now... well, just can't let the slut enjoy himself too much."

How much a tone can change a word. Lucius called Draco a slut many times but with a loving voice. Here, then again, there is nothing but contempt. The aristocratic wizard drawls a spell and something tight (and very probably silvery) clutches around Harry's cock, tight but not painfully so.

"That was just ...warming you up. Now it is time to discipline you, Harry. First of all, you have been such a nuisance to me with that notebook incident. And very impolite to my son and heir during your school years. To add your absolutely improper behaviour today on top of that, I think fifty strikes will be a good start. You will count them aloud, one after another."
"Like Hell I will, you fucking-"

Harry's outburst is followed by much harder blows, as it seems that Lucius was just toying with him first. Quite soon he is letting out helpless yelps and screams and as the elder Malfoy continues, Harry is sobbing, despite all his attempts to endure the pain. Lucius cups the boy's chin so that Harry has to look at him again and smirks cruelly. Draco seems to be enjoying his "birthday gift" quite thoroughly even now as he stands before the pair, half-erect and with a very real happy smile on his face. The Malfoy version of it, one laced with deviant lust.

"I will continue until you obey."
"Fuck you both you pissant devious scum of the wizardkind!"
"Now you will have twenty more because of your foul language."
"F- I... will do that."
"Good boy."

THWACK!
"One."
"Do you mind if I remove your artwork, my son? I would so much like to taste the flavour of Harry's tears when he probably has learnt even some manners."
THWACK!
"Two."
"Of course not, Father. It's performance art after all, destined to last only for a while. And I think that my little gift for Potter has served its purpose already."
THWACK!
"Three."
"So, you two are clearly still not in first-name terms."
THWACK!
"Four."
"No. Though, I don't know how the situation will change when we get ...closer."
THWACK!
"Five."
"Ah. I almost cannot wait. Scourgify."

THWACK!
"Twenty-three."
THWACK!
"Twenty-four."

The pain is somewhat more bearable now when the blows land on Harry's arse in a steady rhythm. Then again, the humiliation, bloody Lucius Malfoy extracting his and his son's sickening vengeance on him in the name of punishment and the fact that Harry has complied out of sheer hopelessness of the situation and while he does not want to admit the fact even to himself, the pain Lucius is able to inflict on him, makes the Gryffindor boy feel even worse.

THWACK!
"Fifty-one."
THWACK!
"F-fifty-two."

Lucius grasps Harry's hair again and licks tears flowing down his cheek. The boy blushes, his face turning angry red from the pain and concentration needed to keep count on Lucius' strikes has left him no possibility to hold his tears back or even notice that he is crying.

"Wingardium Leviosa."
"What have I told you about flying inside, Draco?"
"Nothing if it didn't include broomsticks, Father."
"It seems that you spend quite a lot of time searching for loopholes from everywhere there are some kind of rules, my son."
"It might be so. Runs in the family perhaps."


Lucius chuckles, rather proud of his son. The sight of Draco floating in the air right before Harry and Lucius, clearly enjoying his birthday present, makes the Gryffindor boy feel even more humiliated and hateful as he had also forgotten the presence of the blond Pureblood boy watching.

"I presume you don't mind waiting for a while to actually test our little hero here?"
"No, not at all. You know I appreciate your performance art quite a lot, Father."
(Fuck. If I ever get out of this place alive I will rip their fucking posturing self-righteous throats open.)
THWACK!
"I somehow can't hear a number, now. Should I start from the beginning?"
"Fifty-three."
THWACK!
"Fifty-four."
"I usually do not like the colour red but it looks quite pretty on Potter's arse."
THWACK!
"Fifty-five."
"I have been thinking just the same, my sweet demon. And the helpless hatred in his voice..."
"A very, very beautiful sound, Lucius."

Suddenly Lucius stops. The relief. The anger and self-hatred resulting from the relief. And the sensations... they are the worst. As the searing pain cools into warmth and dull ache, Harry can feel small streams of blood flowing down his arse cheeks running down his scrotum and it feels ...exciting.

No! If anything, THIS is not supposed to feel good, especially not that good that Harry is still erect after being spanked to the point of bleeding and crying by Lucius fucking Malfoy at the same time the debauched bastard's equally perverted son is happily floating in the air just above them and enjoying the sight. WHILE the sickening elitist fuck-ups are talking about the abuse as an art form.

"I would like to have a taste, Father."
"Oh, take your time, my silver dragon. I thought Harry here would probably appreciate a little pause to understand exactly what he really wants."

Draco adjusts his position in the air and lowers his head to get a small taste of Harry's blood. The sudden sensation of warmth and the softness of his tongue forces a moan from the young Gryffindor's lips.

"Not a very good flavour. I'd say it lacks certain purity. But the reaction ...I really liked that."
"I wasn't exactly disappointed either. It seems that the little hero's childish tantrums were just a way to coerce us to fulfil his lusts. He's a bit of a surprise, actually. I would have never expected such subtlety from him."

Lucius slides his flawless, pale fingers along Harry's prick, causing more suppressed moans as Draco floats back to the position where he is able to see the boy's face, letting out a silvery laugh.

"I wonder who is debauched now, Potter."
"You fucking-"
"Manners, Harry."
(Shit. Twenty more. I really hope I pass out before... No. The bastards would just revive me with that damn potion and-)

No, Harry really doesn't want to think about that. And even less he wants to think that some part of him not only wants to think about both Malfoys having their wicked ways with him but is eagerly looking forward to it.

THWACK!
"F-fifty-six."
"Possibly I should excuse your outburst because you are enjoying yourself a bit too much."
"I'm NOT-"
THWACK!
"Fifty- ahh..."
(Fucking Lucius Malfoy. You will never end up in Azkaban; you will be too fucking dead for that.)
"-seven."

The pain does not lessen but neither does the pleasure, they just seem to merge together. As much as Harry tries not to show that he enjoys it more than anything before, even more than the day he got to know he is a wizard and Hagrid took him away from the Dursleys, even while the knowledge makes him feel so terrible, he can't stop his helpless moans.

THWACK!
"Ohh... S-sixty-nine."
"You look so delicious now, Harry. Almost as sweet as you sound."
THWACK!
"S-ahhh... Seventy."

Harry's cock is achingly hard, he has been drawn so far beyond his limits and he so much wants to come but he can't. The magical silver cord curled around his prick and his sac... well, he has heard about cock-rings, possibly something Fred and George had been talking about ...no, they would not be so kinky, it must have been something eavesdropped from the Slytherin table, but now he really feels the reason for such items. Not that he wants to feel that. And he so not wants to feel Lucius' hand softly touching his cock-head, especially as he wriggles in the silver chains, arching his cock against the elder Malfoy's hand.

"I somehow presume the little hero wants some ...release."
"Ahh... n-no... I... yess... no..."
"Can't make up your mind? Because the deciding part of your tiny Gryffindor brain is moved somewhere between your legs?"

Draco's voice. Draco's hand, soft and teasing, most likely never been soiled by even a day of work, spreading Harry's blood on his scrotum and moving gently around his virgin entrance. Lucius. Lucius's hand, bigger but as flawless, spreading the boy's precome around his length, the burn of lust on Harry's arse cheeks, his moans of pleasure.

"Beg for me, Gryffindor's Golden Boy."
"I... n-no... oh yess... p-please, Lucius?"
"Please what?
"L-let me come? Oh please?"
"I don't think so. I don't like sluts too proud to not admit what they truly are."
(Is... is this what I am? I... have never had sex with anyone... It can't be! Cho... I love her. It's clean and beautiful. Not dirty and forced like this. But... I can't even remember her face!)
"I... I am your slut, Lucius. And... and yours, Draco. Please, please let me come now? I'm begging... I... was wrong... Please?"
"Much better now. Lick my cock clean and I will grant you release, little whore."
"Lubricatus."

Draco slides one finger inside Harry's arse, very gently and carefully, not causing even the slightest discomfort and Harry who has now completely forgotten that Lucius has not cast a Scourgify spell on his hardened cock after fucking Draco, opens his mouth and starts to lick eagerly, somewhere inside his head still telling himself that it is just because he wants the perverted scene to end as soon as possible.

(Not much skill but the eagerness to please is rather nice, especially with the later reaction. Oh, how much he will hate himself after this.)
"Sufficient enough. Not that good I'd allow you to suck me off but enough to grant your wish. Finite Incantatem."

Everything blurs in Harry's mind, pure white lust exploding as he comes violently all over the black velvet coach with a voiceless scream. White fading to darkness as he drifts into forgiving unconsciousness.

To be continued...