Hole
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
22
Views:
40,792
Reviews:
37
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
22
Views:
40,792
Reviews:
37
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Lucius
When the bell chimed for dinner Draco looked up with a start. His father was standing in the doorway watching him. Draco flushed, feeling as if he had been caught doing something wrong, although of course he hadn't. He was still reading about Caligula, and he realised that he was absently toying with the dark hair of the slave at his feet.
"Hello, Father," he said calmly, standing up to join Lucius.
"Draco," his father said, eyes flicking to where Hole still sat on the floor.
"Go and sit on your rug, Hole," Draco commanded absentmindedly, running a comb through his hair. "I'll just wash my hands, Father."
"I should think so," Lucius drawled.
When Draco came out of the bathroom his father had pinned Hole against the wall, cane across his throat. As Draco watched, Lucius leaned over in a parody of a kiss and bit Harry's lip. Startlingly red blood dripped down his chin. Lucius smiled ferally before dropping the boy, who sagged against the wall in surprise. "Report to my room in one hour, boy," he ordered.
Draco followed his father down the staircase quietly.
That night he took the blond boy, Butter, to his bed. Butter had a mouth of silk, and he cried out beautifully as Draco pounded into him. Draco gripped his hips savagely, and poured himself out into the delicate, well-used arse. Then he sent the boy back to the kitchens.
He had breakfast with his mother in her rooms, sulking into his pain au chocolat until she coaxed him into a better humour with praise of his half-made plans for the Ball.
"Did you talk to Father about Hole?" he asked her, when she was pouring out a cup of tea.
"About Hole?" she asked, "What do you mean?" but her hands had trembled ever-so slightly as the stream of tea filled the cup. He had chosen the moment for that reason. "He's just a slave," she said, almost pleadingly.
It was true. Hole wasn't a person. He had emotions and limited reasoning ability, but anything else that he had been was lost under the spells that had enslaved him. He could not disobey an order, or analyse Draco's behaviour. He could laugh and cry but if Draco told him to stand in a dragon pen he would unhesitatingly do so and be torn apart. He wasn't really human, just a hole for sticking a cock into.
Draco felt nauseated. He didn't see Hole for another eight days.
"Hello, Father," he said calmly, standing up to join Lucius.
"Draco," his father said, eyes flicking to where Hole still sat on the floor.
"Go and sit on your rug, Hole," Draco commanded absentmindedly, running a comb through his hair. "I'll just wash my hands, Father."
"I should think so," Lucius drawled.
When Draco came out of the bathroom his father had pinned Hole against the wall, cane across his throat. As Draco watched, Lucius leaned over in a parody of a kiss and bit Harry's lip. Startlingly red blood dripped down his chin. Lucius smiled ferally before dropping the boy, who sagged against the wall in surprise. "Report to my room in one hour, boy," he ordered.
Draco followed his father down the staircase quietly.
That night he took the blond boy, Butter, to his bed. Butter had a mouth of silk, and he cried out beautifully as Draco pounded into him. Draco gripped his hips savagely, and poured himself out into the delicate, well-used arse. Then he sent the boy back to the kitchens.
He had breakfast with his mother in her rooms, sulking into his pain au chocolat until she coaxed him into a better humour with praise of his half-made plans for the Ball.
"Did you talk to Father about Hole?" he asked her, when she was pouring out a cup of tea.
"About Hole?" she asked, "What do you mean?" but her hands had trembled ever-so slightly as the stream of tea filled the cup. He had chosen the moment for that reason. "He's just a slave," she said, almost pleadingly.
It was true. Hole wasn't a person. He had emotions and limited reasoning ability, but anything else that he had been was lost under the spells that had enslaved him. He could not disobey an order, or analyse Draco's behaviour. He could laugh and cry but if Draco told him to stand in a dragon pen he would unhesitatingly do so and be torn apart. He wasn't really human, just a hole for sticking a cock into.
Draco felt nauseated. He didn't see Hole for another eight days.