Tommy, Son of a Dark Lord

A/N: Just a little chapter, something to give this thing meat.

Chapter Three: Torture, Pain and Torment

Morning broke over the Fortress and only then did the line of Death Eaters move away from the broken boy.
Oliver was carried to a cell and left there, a hexed plug inserted in his ass and something tightly wrapped around the head of his dick.
He was too exhausted to care.
They left him there for most of the day and when the door opened again, he cowered back from the light.
“Bring him and clean him well.” Voldemort said before walking away.
Two men hoisted him up and dragged him through the door, along the hall and into a room that smelled of antiseptic and harsh soap.
There were two others in the room, already seated together on a bench and dripping wet.
Oliver was taken to the middle of the room and stood over a wide drain with a yellow mesh screen over it.
The two men grabbed buckets with brushes in them and proceeded to scrub him roughly with them, cleaning away the filth and opening the scabs that covered his various scrapes and cuts. After the previous day, he no longer bothered to hold back his cries and tears, they wouldn’t be moved by Gryffindor courage and it did hurt.
When he was clean, they stepped away and released a drenching shower that rinsed away the soap as well as the residual filth and sent it down the drain. Then, they left him, standing there, soaked and shivering, barely able to keep on his own feet.
Voldemort returned and the two boys on the bench whimpered as they clung to each other. The Dark Lord turned to them and sneered.
“Shut it!” he said and they froze, silent for the time being. “So, Gryffindor. How do you feel today? Does your new life suit you?” he asked and Oliver stared a the floor, afraid to say or do anything in the face of the mad man.
Voldemort laughed, “Yes. That is how they all are the first day. Now, let us prepare you further.” and the snake-like man lifted his wand and aimed it carefully.
A tube of black appeared, nearly a foot long and only the width of a spaghetti noodle. It hovered in the air for a bit as Oliver watched it, mesmerized by its undulating. Then, it slithered in the air on a path that took it straight toward Oliver’s bound penis. There it found the tiny opening at the tip and began to work itself in, easing into the boy’s urethra and working past the constricting bindings.
Oliver tried to grab it and pull it out, but it continued past his fingers, burning him with pain as it moved on until all that was exposed was a one inch end. The Dark Lord roared with laughter.
The boy wasn’t sure what kept him standing as his knees buckled and his breath moved in and out in ragged gasps.
His dick burned and his ass was still raw from the treatment before and yet he was still on his feet.
Voldemort continued to laugh and Oliver turned toward him.
“Now, I control everything you do, boy. You cannot even take a piss unless I wish it. I am sure you felt my spell last night, as well. That was one of my ultimate accomplishments, and you will appreciate this. The spell is a constant, connecting the beginning of your bowels to a host. You will never again need to eliminate wastes this way, as your shit has been sent to him. All three of you share the same host and, until he dies, he will be burdened with your feces. I do so hate a dirty boy-pussy. And the plugs you wear are to keep things in, as well as out. Only I can allow you to be emptied of your collected semen or filled by a ready cock.” the Dark Lord continued as he stood before the boy and placed a hand on the tiny bulge at his belly. When he pressed in, Oliver understood what he meant, as he felt the confines of his filled anus against the plug in his rear.
“Now, down on your knees, boy. You will learn what other purposes you have in my regime.” Voldemort said, pushing down on Oliver’s shoulder until he was face-to-dick with the Dark Lord. “Take it in your mouth and do not waste a single drop.” the crazed man ordered.
Oliver opened his lips and allowed the lax appendage to rest on his tongue before a warm liquid filled his mouth and a bitter smell his nose. He swallowed quickly, afraid of the punishment that would come his way if he failed and he managed to down it all. The taste was sweet as well as acidic, and it burned his raw throat as it passed. “Good, now you must also drink your own.” Voldemort said, lifting a large black rubber plug and shoving it into Oliver’s mouth, sealing it against his lips. There was a long tube at the back and the Dark Lord attached it to the tip of the one in his dick, smiling as he said. “Let it out, boy. This is the last chance for some hours.”
There was no effort on his part as the tube opened and allowed the contents of his bladder release, flooding his throat again and causing him to swallow or drown in his own fluids. Then, it closed again and the tip released from the gag.
The Dark Lord left it in place as he walked away.
“You are now nothing more than a play toy for my amusement. Your mouth is a urinal and your ass is a receptacle for the pleasure of my followers. Accept your life Gryffindor, it doesn’t get any better from here on. “ he said as he grabbed hold of the boys on the bench and brought them over. One by one, he attached their tubes (the redhead had a red one and the boy with black hair had a blue one) to the gag and the urine flowed into his mouth and throat.
When they were empty, Voldemort removed the gag and tossed it aside. Then, he pushed the two to the floor and directed them to crawl behind Oliver and place their faces to his ass. He removed the plug and had the boys lick and suck the hole clean, swallowing the juices that now ran free without the restriction. While they did this, Voldemort pulled Oliver’s face to his rising dick and shoved it into his mouth.
“Put your hands here, boy.” the Dark Lord said, lifting Oliver’s hands to his bulging belly and having him hold it between them as the mad man thrust down the boy’s throat getting harder and larger as he did.
Oliver was choking on it when he felt something move under his fingers and he gagged in shock.
“Yes, my boy is there. My son. He will never be as weak as you are . . .he is a true heir of Slytherin." Voldemort said, pushing deeply even as Oliver choked and gagged and struggled for breath.
Soon, the thrusts stopped as Voldemort shoved deep and released into the recesses of Oliver’s esophagus, laughing maniacally as Oliver’s eyes rolled back in his head and his fingers dropped away.
Oliver lay on the floor, quaking as his body drew in air, now that his breathing tube was clear, and the two boys continued to lap at the stream of cum that flowed from his ass.
Voldemort smiled, massaging his belly as he called one to clean his dick of any residue before he pulled his robe closed and turned away.
“Clean him good or you will be punished,” he called as he left the room.


If Snape was shocked to see Oliver Wood tied to a piece of equipment in the throne room, naked and open for the instant gratification of the occupants, he didn’t show it.
He simply walked past him, as well as Micheal Corner and that Ackley boy, on his way to the dais and the Dark Lord.
“You called for me, My Lord?” he asked as he knelt just below the last step.
“Yes, Severus. I did.” Voldemort said as he waved away those close, including Bellatrix and her husband. “I have need of a potion and I am in no mood to mix it. I wish you to do it.”
“Anything you wish, My Lord.” Snape said looking up. “What do you need of me?”
“It is one of my own, special potions. I know you have lusted over these secrets, so I am going to share one.” The dark lord said as he leaned closer. “It is a variant on the Polyjuice recipe, very potent and long lasting. But it takes some time to complete. I have begun, but you will need to stay with it over the next few days..” and Voldemort stood, resting a hand on his back to offset the burden of his belly, before leading toward a side door.
This door, though right next to the door of his sleeping chamber, led to a lab where several potions brewed simultaneously. Voldemort led him to one that was watched by a scowling Peter Pettigrew.
“Patience Wormtail. I will take you to your stall ,as soon as Severus has been given his assignment. Now, here is the list of ingredients and the directions for adding, stirring and simmering. I’ll leave you to your work, while I take my pet out for his walk.” Voldemort said, indicating a parchment and the various supplies around it.
Snape nodded as he read it over, it was more complicated than the recipe he remembered, but not too much for his abilities.
“Come, Wormtail. Let us deal with you.” Voldemort said, taking hold of a leash that was attached to a collar around the little man’s neck.
Snape watched them until they were out of the door, then he returned to the potion before him.
He would have some time to wait until the color turned to purple before he could add the next ingredient, so he settled back to wait.
The Dark Lord led Wormtail down the hall to a rarely used door and he opened it with a swish of his wand.
Pettigrew, knowing what was expected, stripped out of his clothing hung it on a peg near the door before entering.
Inside, there were no furnishings, only an old bucket set in the center of the three by three room, and two rings attached to the wall.
Peter sat over the bucket and raised his hands, holding the rings as Voldemort waved his wand, attaching him to them with thick strong chains.
“I will return in one hour, Wormtail. Do you think you will be finished by then?” he asked and the little man nodded vigorously. “Good,” he said as he closed and locked the door.
Darkness filled the room and the only sounds were the grunting of the animagus and a soft plop within the bucket.

Okay, Now we get to some of the real squicky stuff. And we see how many of you can take it. Read and review. Love ya! Next chapter, Thursday the 29th.