Pet

*~*~*~*
FIVE
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Harry pulled the towel securely around his waist, crushing the fabric in his fist. He glanced up at Lucius and, oddly, found solace in the cold fury reflected in the gray blue eyes.

“Master,” Harry whispered. “Why are they here?”

Lucius kissed his temple; slightly amused that Harry had finally referred to him as Master. The green-eyed wizard had deliberately avoided using any reference at all in his previous conversations.

“Humiliation, Pet.”

“I have less magic than a Squib, my uncle tried to sell me, you lead me around on a leash, and He has a front row seat for when you shove your cock up my arse…How much more humiliated does He want me to be?”

Lucius fixed his eyes on Lord Voldemort. “Perhaps it is not just you He wishes to humiliate.”

Harry looked up at Lucius in realization of the truth in the statement. The always impeccably dressed Lucius Malfoy was standing before a fully clothed Lord Voldemort wearing nothing but a bathrobe. The finalization of the binding ritual required Lucius and Harry to have intercourse in front of witnesses – one of which Harry imagined was to have been Lucius’ wife, Narcissa. Humiliation. It was difficult, if not impossible to remain dignified in any of those situations.

“Will He?”

“Will He what, Pet?”

“Will He…after you…um…”

Lucius tightened his arms around Harry. One hand gave a light tug to the chain at the slender throat and continued its movement to rest beside the still bleeding tattoo. With a quick wave, he transfigured the padded table into a bed.

“You are mine, Pet. Mine, not His. I do not share what is mine. Get on the bed.”

*~*~*~*
Severus leaned into his master’s touch; they were silent witnesses to the final stage of the Ritual of Possession. He took no pleasure in the honor; he felt like a voyeur and the feeling left him feeling unclean.

Lucius looked at the small figure lying in the middle of the mattress. His broad hands caressed the silky, hairless flesh. Mine. Harry trembled, his nerve endings on overload; with his curse scar exploding and the effects of the numbing potion fading on his freshly marred skin, he was in too much pain to appreciate the dark wizard’s attempts to relax him.

Harry’s eyes flickered toward Voldemort and Severus and a shudder coursed through his frame.

“Look at me, Pet.” Lucius ordered softly. He held out a finger and Harry’s eyes followed it. “Focus on me. Only me. There is no one else here.”

As much as he would have liked his first time with Harry to be a gentle seduction, he knew that his concubine was in too much pain to get much pleasure out of the encounter. The Ritual of Possession required only his orgasm and Harry’s pain to complete it, and complete it he would.

Harry’s breath caught as Lucius cast a spell of relaxation and lubrication. The dark wizard rolled the towel and slipped it beneath Harry’s hips, raising them. With slow, petting movements, he spread the thin thighs wide apart. He did not remove his robe, but untied it, letting it fall open. Harry’s eyes focused on his broad chest and engorged cock.

Lucius wrapped Harry’s fingers around his erection and covered the smaller hand with his own. Slowly they pumped him to hardness. Opening the vial Severus had given him, he coated his erection with the lubricant.

As Lucius pushed against the tight ring of muscle at Harry’s entrance, Harry keened and stiffened.

“Try to relax,” Lucius hissed and pulled Harry’s knees further apart. Harry felt the tattoo begin to bleed again. The young man’s mouth opened in a silent scream as Lucius breached him; Harry’s thin hands pushed uselessly against his broad shoulders, and Lucius captured his lips in a violent kiss. With shallow thrusts and variation in angle, Lucius was finally buried to the root.

Severus glanced at the document Lord Voldemort handed him for his signature. Swiftly, he left his signature and family sigil beside that of the Dark Lord.

“Come, Pet.” Lord Voldemort rose to his feet. “Let us leave them with some semblance of privacy.”

The Potion Master’s eyes drifted to the couple on the transfigured bed, amused that Lucius had managed to preserve their modesty somewhat with his flowing bathrobe covering them. He could see the blood trickling from beneath the bandage on Harry’s hip and made a mental note to send additional healing potions and draughts to Sally.

The Dark Lord wrapped his arms around his equally thin pet. His attention shifted briefly toward the couple as Lucius let out a moan of pleasure and a soft glow enveloped the bed, signaling the bond’s completion.

“It’s a shame the little one isn’t female. They would make such beautiful children, don’t you think?”

Severus smiled, the amusing image of a very pregnant Harry Potter drifting into his mind unbidden. With a soft pop, they disapparated back to Riddle Manor, leaving behind the signed parchment.

*~*~*~
Sally gently smoothed the antibiotic potion over the still raw tattoo before covering it in sterile gauze. She pulled down the loose leg of the silk boxers.

“Thank you, Sally.” Harry adjusted himself on his nest of pillows. “I have not had a chance to see it closely. What kind of serpent is it?”

“A basilisk, Harry” she said with a shudder.

“Basilisk? I would have expected a dragon.”

“No, Harry.” Her bat ears twitched. “You are the property of Lord Lucius Malfoy. His symbol is a basilisk. If you belonged to his heir, you would wear a dragon.”

Sally completed her domestic duties and left the room. She was so unlike any other house elf he had ever met, but, as she admitted, she had been the personal elf for both Lord Malfoy’s mother and grandmother. Neither dowager would have accepted anything less than perfection in a servant.

At first Harry had been pleased when the house elves addressed him as “Harry”, not “Mr. Harry Potter” and not “Sir” until it occurred to him that the titles had been an expression of status. As Lucius Malfoy’s bound concubine, did he share the same social and legal status as a house elf?

*~*~*~*