Masters' Call

Warning--rape

The walk he took to Casey Belken’s new rooms was swift. Gilded Gyson was picking his gold-plated teeth as Severus walked by. They paid each other no attention. As soon as his arm would reach the door he knocked, afraid any pausing would make him run. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long, and the door opened to reveal a man, shorter than Severus but with wide shoulders and a thick body. The shaggy blond hair flopped over the tops of his ears, but Severus didn’t notice any of those things. All he saw was the malicious smile slowly stretching out his oversized lips.

“Severus Snape,” Casey said, his voice sticky and full of amusement, “Well… Dumbledore said it was a teacher I would be seeing, but I had no idea it was one so prominent.”

Casey’s hand dropped from the door frame, and he stood aside. Eyes cast down in front of him, Severus entered. It took him several blinks to finally focus on the room. Casey Belkin’s living quarters were only slightly smaller than his own. The sitting room was empty except for essential furniture and dark, a darkness with shadows that hissed at him.

A hand pressed between his shoulder blades. Physically, his startle was barely notable, but for a second his heart jumped into his throat and choked him. The hand pushed him forward through the room and to a door at the other end, centered in the wall. Belkin stepped up, reached out, and turned the knob. Before the door was open enough for Severus to see, he was being shoved through it so roughly he lost his footing and only managed to keep himself off the floor by reaching down and pressing his fingers the rug beneath him to keep his balance. Straightening up, Snape turned sharply to face the other man, not willing to allow him out of his sight again.

“So,” said Casey, “You are here to please me? Do whatever I say without hesitation?”

Snape found a spot on the wall just above Casey’s shoulder to concentrate on. He swallowed, teeth gritted, and nodded.

“Well then” said Casey, his smile growing, “Strip.”

As much as most of Snape hated Dumbledore, he would have done almost anything to be taking off his clothes for him instead. Slowly he began the task of opening his many buttons, but Casey Belken, it seemed, was not patient. He stomped over, every step rattling Snape’s nerves, and stopped in front of him. He grasped what was open of Snape’s robes and ripped them all the way down. The buttons littered the floor. Without pause, Casey grabbed the white dress shirt underneath and split it. He grabbed the shoulders of Snape’s clothing and yanked them off, exposing the pale skin Severus tried so carefully to hide. Casey made sure to catch his eye with a toothy grin before he reached forward and tugged his waistband, forcing Snape to step closer. Casey kept his grinning eyes locked on Severus’ face, watching for any reaction as he unbelted and stripped the man of his remaining clothes, but he never received so much as a twitch. Casey pocketed his hands and looked Snape up and down.

“I’d put you in heals,” he said, “But you’re already too damn tall.”

Casey stepped back and commanded, “On your knees.”

Severus’ jaw tightened. He fell to his knees by choice for the Dark Lord before and now only to emphasize a lie. Sometimes he knelt for Dumbledore, but that was by force. Was this force?

As though the movement caused him physical pain, Severus lowered himself to the rug, eyes now locked on the top of the nightstand on the other side of the room. Casey walked around behind him, and gathered Severus’ hair back into a ponytail. He wrapped his hands around it and jerked Severus’ head back.

With a dark chuckle, the man said, “Now we have a handle.”

He let go and proceeded to the wardrobe where he withdrew a few items and carried them over to Snape.

“Look,” Belken barked at him.

Snape drug his head up to look at what the man was holding. His eyes took in the black lace hanging from Casey’s left hand, and Snape swore his tight jaw cracked a tooth.

“Have you ever been dressed like a hoar?” Casey asked, his smile back. Severus didn’t answer, just put his gaze to the floor.

“Stand up,” Belken ordered, taking a step back. When Snape obeyed, he continued, “Put these on. If I had known your hair was black, I would have gone with red, but I picked these up especially for you.”

For a minute, Snape looked at the black lace thong in the other man’s hand. He reached out slowly and took it, manipulating the clothing so he could see it properly.

“I said put it on,” Casey yelled.
Snape heard the slap before he felt it. A sharp pain streaked through his thigh and hip. A blue rope of sorts hung from the end of Casey’s wand. It was light; he’d say electricity if he didn’t know any better. Glancing down at the foot long, dark red indent in his skin, Snape nearly smiled. Pain he could deal with, pain was practically enjoyable.

“But wouldn’t you rather keep hitting me instead?” he asked softly, an edge of defiance to his voice, forgetting his apprehension.

Three more slices dug into Snape’s skin. He closed his eyes and relished in it. This would easily be the best part of the night.

“Now put it on!”

He complied with delicate movements. Perhaps Casey Belken had a short temper, one he easily lost control of. Then maybe he would wear himself out with beatings or hit Severus so many times Snape was no longer conscious. Only this plotting allowed him to dress as Casey instructed, sliding the rough lace over his long, pale legs, the back of the thong fitting along the crease of his backside. Casey gestured for him to get back on his knees and dangled a matching sheer bra in his view. Unconsciousness, Snape thought and took it, that was his goal. Maybe a head injury would make him not remember at all.

Women were not an area of strength for him. The few that he had been with undressed
themselves. It took genuine observation for him to deduce how to put it on. He would not fumble it and give Casey fuel to ridicule him about something that caused enough pain. Loneliness hurt but for him it was necessary. He latched and turned the scratchy material, pulled up the straps, and slid his arms through. The lace wasn’t moulded. It pressed almost flat against his chest.

Casey walked over to the bed and sat on the end.

He curled his finger and said, “Crawl to me. Slowly.”

With fists, Severus leaned forward and moved one heavy limb at a time.

“Look at me while you do it.”

Snape closed his eyes for two seconds and looked up. Casey’s eyes bored into him. Severus moved forward again, and a curve pulled at Casey’s lips. Snape came to a stop between the other man’s ankles, but that apparently wasn’t far enough. His pony tail was grabbed, and his head was jerked forward, face smashing against the front of Casey’s trousers. Snape’s hands came up at once to push away, but he stopped himself, curled his fingers back into fists, and replaced them on the floor.

“Good boy,” Casey said cruelly, running his fingers through the hair on top of Severus’ head, “See, you are completely capable of doing as I say.”

Severus only half heard the words. He was consumed by the disgust spreading through him. Casey’s crotch was warm, and the man was half hard.

“Lick it.”

Snape complied, refusing to think too much of it. Pants material wasn’t the worse thing he’d licked. He made a
few passes before Casey leaned back.

“Open my pants and take my dick out.”

Biting his lip in silent protest to what he knew was coming, Severus lifted his hands. Unclenching them this time hurt. The joints in his fingers protested and creaked as he stretched them out and extended them to the man’s pants. The button was a bit tight. Casey needed larger pants or less fat. The zipper clicked down easily. Underneath were red plaid boxers. Severus trembled as he separated the opening in their front and dipped his hand in. Partially soft mush met his fingers. He gripped and withdrew it from the folds of fabric. Bile built in his throat as he looked at it. It still had the foreskin, something he particularly hated about himself, and dipped forward from lack of structure.

“You do everything far too slowly for me,” Casey said, grabbing the base of his cock.

He pushed Severus forward enough to be hit in the face by the floppy dick. Snape clamped his eyes and mouth shut, but Casey ran the soft flesh over his lips and said, “Open up.”

It took more muscle control to open his mouth than it ever had to close it, but he kept his eyes shut tight. The second Casey’s soft dick drug over his tongue, Severus gagged and pulled away. His hair was yanked forward, forcing all of Casey’s cock into his mouth. He held still and tried to breathe calmly through his nose. Pain wracked his body. The blue whip lashed his lower back, one blow after another. He gripped the bed frame between Casey’s legs to steady himself. By the eighth strike however, Severus trembled with such a jagged force, Casey could barely keep his throat clogged. It seemed violence was Casey Belken’s turn-on. The cock in his mouth swelled and hardened, slowly closing the gap of oxygen in Severus’ throat. When his lungs threatened to explode, he tried to pull back only to be held down with more force. Lights bloomed in his vision.

The fist wrapped around his hair pulled back, and he gasped in lungfuls of air, wonderful, soothing air. Casey pulled him forward again. The mass between his teeth slid through his traitorous mouth with ease and into his throat again. Twice more Casey deprived the man on the floor of oxygen, but it was apparent lost consciousness was not his goal, so Severus just remained as frozen as possible until he was allowed to breathe again.

Still on his hands and knees, Snape’s joints were sending a throb through his limbs with every heartbeat. He slowly moved his knees closer to his chest so he could sit, but that he learned, was not allowed. The whip came down on the backs of his calves. His body shuddered. He pushed his legs back into place, and the whip came down on him again. Casey pushed in just far enough to make him gag, pulled Severus’ head back, and kicked his hip. Severus was flipped onto his back on the bedroom floor, gasping. For several seconds his knees were unbendable. The rough fibers of the rug stung his open lashes.

Casey stood and loomed over him. Casey picked up his right foot and pressed it down on Severus’ face.

“Lick it.”

With one more deep breath, Severus closed his eyes again, opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He drug it along the clearly unwashed skin. Casey moved his foot down, ensuring Severus’ tongue got between all his toes. He picked his foot up, swung it around, and brought it down, crushing the soft organ between Severus’ legs. Severus yelled as a wave of nausea crashed over him, his upper back curved, but Casey continued short stomping him, relishing in the uncontrolled shouts of pain filling the room.

Finally Belken stepped back, allowing the other man to curl up into himself. Severus swallowed repeatedly, willing the vomit to stay at bay. Hands balled into fists crushed between his thighs, he forced himself not to rock, not to whimper. After this was done, he would still have some dignity.

A firm grip latched onto his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. He was tossed at the bed as if he were no larger or more coordinated than a ragdoll. He caught himself on the edge of the mattress, not wanting to drag his knees over the blankets. Belken’s open hand came down on Severus’ butt cheek, issuing a slapping sound that cracked through the air.

“Stand on the bed.”

Before he could be hit again, Snape hopped up on the bed, wobbly on the impressionable surface. Casey grabbed his right ankle and jerked it sideways. Severus had to quickly bend over and brace himself on the bed to keep from falling. A thick metal cuff was latched and tightened around his ankle, the chain rattling as it slinked down to the floor. Expecting it this time, he bent over and pushed his hands into the comforter as a brace. Casey grabbed and yanked his left leg out to the opposite side of the bed and manacled it. A calloused hand smoothed over the skin of his ass, chest level on Casey as he stood directly behind Severus. Another slap stung his skin and he jumped, more from the sound than the pain. This hit wasn’t nearly as egregious as the last.

“You are so pale,” Casey mumbled, scratching lines down the back of Severus’ thigh, “So easy to leave my mark on.”

Casey slapped his ass again, then again, and soon a rhythm bounced in Severus’ head. It stung, and then it hurt, the pain became nearly unbearable, and then he gradually went almost numb. The nerves in his skin stopped reporting pain to his brain. They were too busy reeling around from the shock of blow after blow. He stayed as bent over as his hamstrings would allow him to be, hands fisted in the blanket.

“You should see how bright red you get,” Casey told him, rubbing the tender flesh.


Severus cringed as blood rushed back to his ass, feeding the pain receptors. The pain was back to excruciating. He forced himself to think of the next phase when the agony would fade, but then Casey distracted him from it altogether.

Belken hooked his finger under the strip of material from the thong that covered his crack and slid his index along it. He extended his finger and brushed it over Severus’ opening. With the thong pushed aside and Snape’s ass as thin as it was, the pink pucker was deliciously visible. Casey brushed it again, and Snape tightened, the contraction of his butt muscles nearly shielding it from view. Irritated, Casey brought his hand down and cracked Snape again, this time hard enough to leave a print evident over the abused, pink skin.

“Knock it off,” Casey warned him.

Severus hadn’t meant to do it. It was a reflex, one he was having a difficult time controlling. Casey ran all of his fingers, one by one, over Snape’ opening, and every time he so much as flinched, Casey hit him. The man pressed thumb against it and rubbed none too gently. Eventually the skin grew used to the contact and stopped twitching. Severus took a deep breath, trying his absolute hardest to relax. He heard the wet slobbering of Casey sucking his finger and nearly panicked. But he didn't. Severus Snape did not lose control of himself. The Dark Lord had caused him more pain than this by far.

A finger breached his body, pushing down all the way to the knuckle. The burn of the stretch jarred him less than he was expecting. A finger didn't take much adjusting. It withdrew from him and re-entered. The finger disappeared and a different one pushed inside him, then another. Casey licked each of his fingers on both hands and one by one inserted them roughly into the opening before him. The man was right but not as right as he was expecting.

"I'm not the first one to have to deal with you. You've been used before. Who was here before me?"

The question barely processed. Thinking of every person who had done this to him made his face burn with humiliation, but it wasn't noticeable. His face was already red from being bent over for so long.

"Answer me," he said, his voice low and serious.

He shoved in a second finger. Severus's back tensed, but again it didn't hurt as much as he expected.

"Several people," Snape told him softly.

A burn ripped through him. Casey forced the muscle to open further, adding a third digit and pushing until no part if any finger could be seen. He turned his wrist and finally heard the hiss he wanted.

“Death eaters,” Severus said in a strained voice, “A couple, from a long time ago. Order members that had to be bribed.”

“You’re not much of a bribe. Go on,” instructed Casey, twisting his wrist back.

Snape barely controlled his gasp, getting through it with a long, deep breath, and said, “Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore?” repeated Casey in surprise, then he smiled, “You are his little live-in hoar. You come when he calls, don’t you? That explains the looseness. Do you enjoy it--being used and sent back down to the dungeons as if you were the proper professor?”

Casey withdrew his hand and gripped Severus’ ball sac instead, squeezing and fully expecting an answer. When none came, he squeezed harder. Severus’ chest convulsed with the yell he would not let be heard.

“No,” he choked out, “But I’m… used to it.”

“Do you like standing in front of your innocent little students, knowing you just bent over for their headmaster? Disgusting Professor Snape, slut and tramp. Tell me you’re dirty.”

“I’m dirty,” Snape repeated.

Casey squeezed him again, and said, “Say it better.”

“I’m dirty,” said Severus again louder and with what he hoped was more conviction.

With one more squeeze, Casey let him go and shoved his three fingers back into him. What he mostly wanted from it was the shock effect. Wrapping his other arm around the front of Snape’s hips to keep him from being pushed over, he used every muscle in his arm towards forcing three then four fingers in, roughly finger fucking him until the pummeling no longer gave him satisfaction.

Severus clenched his jaw together so tightly, his teeth began to ache deeply. All the muscles in the top half of his face cramped from squeezing his eyes shut. No, he would not cry out, not from this.

The fingers disappeared. Severus heard the other man moving around the room and come to stop again behind him. Something thin, smooth, and slick slid into him. Relief wanted to flood him, but he knew better. Somehow this would turn out to be the worst thing so far. Casey slid it in and out of him a few times, pushed it in, and let go. Severus waited, all his focus on controlling his breathing.

Casey tapped the end of the white stick with his wand and watched. It began to grow rapidly. Severus grit his teeth again but didn’t make a sound. The swell slowed. Two fingers would easily fit into him, then three, and it kept growing. Stretching was fine--Severus could take stretching--but this was beyond that. The stick had him open to a width he had only ever taken once. He had been beaten so badly by then, he didn’t remember much of it.

The object inside him slowly withdrew. As it vacated its path through his body, he closed up tightly and couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He still felt overly stretched, but the pain was gone. The expanded phallus brushed his already worn opening, and he tensed out of instinct--the worst thing he could have possibly done. It forced its way into his body. The sharp, little pricks around the intrusion were barely noticeable in comparison to the ripping of his muscle and the tears of his soft passage. Desperately he tried to hold back his voice, but it escaped in a whimper of pain. The intrusion disappeared and shot forward, burying itself in his body. He gasped and grunted. Without relenting, it retreated from his body and brutally prised him open over and over.

His legs violently trembled. He was no longer standing as he had been, but instead bent forward almost crouching. Casey wrapped his thick hands around the front of Severus’ thighs and pulled him back upright, his knees locking, but the phallus never broke its rhythm.

Casey watched the white dildo plunge in and out of his new toy, nearly four fingers wide. Every time it seemed the abused hole before him was adjusting, he made the device grow. The man’s thin legs shook such that Casey had never seen before, and knowing that he, himself had been the reason--he could barely keep from pummeling the trembling little slut into the mattress. Casey gripped Severus’ left thigh tightly and released the right. The phallus withdrew from Severus, streaked with pink, and Casey sank his index finger into him down to the knuckle. A beat later, the dildo pushed in, and Snape yelled, pulling and twisting away.

Casey snatched the dildo out of the air and tossed it to the floor. Grabbing Severus’ hips, he shoved the man forward onto the bed, following him up on the mattress, paying no mind to the snap accompanied by Snape’s surprised shout. Without letting him go, Casey pulled him back up on his knees. With one hand he reached forward and pushed Snape down onto his shoulders and chest so only his ass stuck into the air. Casey summoned up the dildo again, nearly as large as a fist, and set the spell again. It plunged down into Snape’s body and pulled out. Casey drug his fingers into Snape’s ass cheeks and easily slipped his thumbs into Snape’s hole, pulling him apart, opening him for the already too large device. It shot down into him, and Snape’s body bucked. He shrieked in a shameful way and tried to claw his way out from under the man.

Snape heard the chains before he felt them. Appearing from the side of the bed, the heavy metal manacles snaked their way to him. He didn’t fully understand what they meant; he was too consumed by the need to escape. Casey released his ass and grabbed one of Snape’s wrists, yanking it up, pulling several shoulder muscles in the process. He snatched a manacle and latched it around the thin, pale wrist.

Ice clenched Severus’ chest.

“No,” he gasped out, redoubling his efforts to get away, “No, stop.”

The Dark Lord had chained his hands, only his hands, and watched as the as the other death eaters used him for days. He still wasn’t sure how many. Even Dumbledore didn’t restrain his arms. Most of the time he told others not to as well. Apparently Casey was given no such instruction.

Casey let go of Snape’s arm, and the chair tightened, pulling Snape’s arm out straight to the edge of the bed, holding it taut and flat. Getting a hold of Snape’s other wrist was far more of a challenge now that Severus knew what was coming. Casey grabbed him, but Snape twisted out of his hands. Using his restrained arm as an anchor, he pulled away, nearly dislodging Casey from his kneeling position on Severus’ lashed calves. Not willing to fight over it, Casey leaned forward, pressed Snape’s chest into the mattress, clenched his right hand, and brought it down on the side of Snape’s head. The blow surprised Severus but wasn’t enough to surrender to the chains. Three more times Casey hit him until his body sagged with dizziness.

Blood dripped from the edge of his brow into his vision. Sharp pulses from his snapped ankle, the raw ache of his opening, and now the mind numbing throb of his head--fighting didn’t even seem like an option. He couldn’t get his bearings enough to process how. Casey latched on the other manacle, and it pulled back, holding his chest to the bed. Resuming the pounding as if there had been no interruption, Casey looked down and placed his hands on Snape’s butt, redid the spell, and watched fascinated as it pushed into him. He increased its speed. Occasionally a particularly harsh twinge made Severus twitch. The dildo forced him open, and Casey paused it, hovering over the beaten man. The phallus left an open tunnel in its wake. Casey could look straight down into him, the walls of his passage a brighter red than usual. The hole slowly cinched together. Casey released one side of Snape’s ass and delved his hand into him. It was a tight fit, but Casey got in. He stretched out his fingers and scraped his nails over Severus’ prostate. Snape hissed in a breath.

The wrist chains fell to the floor with a clatter. Casey received little resistance as he twisted Snape’s hands behind his back and attached the cuffs together. He flung the dildo across the room, placed his palms on Snape’s ass, and pushed him flat, his head and chest dragging over the blanket. Casey climbed up closer to him, bringing one leg up beside Snape’s hip. He touched himself, feeling the red, hot hardness that demanded entrance to the man beneath him. He lined himself up with the now loose and empty opening. Snape felt the tip brush him, and he tensed, as if he could vanish if he closed his eyes hard enough. Casey held Snape’s bruised hip and thrust forward, burying himself in one thrust.

Severus convulsed and gave a yell that sounded more like a sob. The width of Casey was a relief next to the dildo, but Casey was much longer and penetrated deeper than Snape’s body wanted to accept. A firm grip wrapped around his hair and pulled his head back. Casey pulled out and slammed back into him, once, twice, over and over. Snape whimpered, no longer able to hear himself. Casey’s movements grew erratic.

“Do you want my cum?” he asked huskily.

Snape didn’t even attempt to answer. Casey put his hand around Severus’ throat and pressed his fingers up into the man’s windpipe.

“Do you want me to cum in you?”

Snape mouthed soundlessly, unable to make his dry mouth function. Casey smirked in acceptance but kept his grip on the man below him. With a couple more thrusts, Casey growled and forced himself as deep as possible into him. In honesty, Severus was relieved to feel the warmth in him. It was the end. That’s all he had wanted from the beginning. Casey rubbed himself against the passage of Snape’s body a few more times, and pulled out.

Streaks of red ran from base of his softening cock all the way to the tip. He waded off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Snape cuffed and broken on the bed, cum working its way out of him, tinged pink from mixing with blood. If it weren’t for the shame burning through him, he would have fallen asleep.

Several minutes later Casey returned, dressed in sleeping clothes. He picked his wand up off the floor and waved it. All four of the manacles released. Snape jerked as one drug against his purple, swollen ankle. Casey walked over, pushed Snape’s arms by his sides, grabbed the man’s shoulder, and rolled him over. One of his eyes was swollen shut, but Snape looked at him with the other one. It took several blinks before he could move.
You are not this pathetic, he reminded himself.

Slowly he pushed up onto his elbows then his hands. Sitting washed wave after wave of agony over him, but he just blankly stared at the floor. He started to remember where his clothes were. He looked and there they were in a pile on the cold floor. Casey grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet, pushing him towards them.

“I’m exhausted,” Casey said, “Hurry up and leave so I can ward the door.”

Dressing was miserable, but Severus did it in silence, leaving off his briefs, socks, and white undershirt in favor of leaving sooner. He grabbed his wand and waved it at his ankle. A temporary brace appeared, just barely good enough to walk on. Holding his unworn clothes, he turned to the door and tried to leave calmly.

“See you tomorrow,” Casey called after him.

Snape would have run if he had the physical capability to do so. Safety, that’s what he needed, his own rooms, his own bed, the spare sleeper in his personal labs.