Watashi Daiichi no shû dorei ai
Watashi Daiichi no shû dorei ai
xmlns=\"http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40\">
Dai-ichi no shū
heir_of_slytherin_dm@yahoo.com10.0pt\'>
mayor\'s son and he likes to rent slaves for sex but when he rents a slave with green
eyes things turn the other way. Slash! Half medieval!
color:black\'>
font-family:Verdana;color:black\'>
color:black\'>
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast
Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or
trademark infringement is intended.
10.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-AU\'>
color:black\'>
Godric/Salazar
color:black\'>
color:black\'>
for beta reading this chapter!
in it. It’s either modern or medieval, though their way of speaking is
medieval. This is a AU and PWP story (Alternate Universe and Plot what Plot?)
Ideas are random so I don’t know who it’s really going to end up. Title written
in Japanese ‘My first week slave lover’ The song ‘One night thing’ from Luis
is at the end.
normal\'>Unknown
streets city lights flash before my eyes
normal\'>Different
faces every night, speaking words I’ve never heard.
normal\'>Got no judge
by myself, need no alibi.
normal\'>No commitments
so why not, take me to the spot.
A
throng of either shaved or bearded men-in obscure colors, some with steeple hats-intermixed
with women-some wearing hoods and others bareheaded¹-turned their heads at the
young man walking in the middle of the street. Inside the old shelters, heads
drew out as sounds echoed in the silence night. Sounds suggesting a slave
walked on the street with the scraping of heavy metal chains, but in this case,
it was no slave.
The
truth is that this young man always made the same sound, a normal\'>gothic sound, every time he walked around the street. The darkness,
as he always seemed to be shrouded in, could have spilled venom from human
lips, but no critics were ever heard, for he was the mayor’s son.
Pointed,
gloomy spikes and steely, pyramid bracelets covered his pale hands and skin
from the moonlight. Gothic looks covered every inch of his clothes and body but
not in his heart, not even in his mind. Chains of every shape and size,
fastened on his trousers, the metal shoelaces and the scraping it does with the
ground as he walked on the unknown street; unknown to you but not for him.
Leather;
leather fabrics sweeping against each other, a sound that reached the ear of
the town. All the people detect the silence, and none dare utter a sound, as
his footsteps continue through the journey. Like a blanket, like a mask, the
turtle neck of his cloak covers the pink lips that no one had ever seen twitch
with a smile, a laugh, a grin, or a smirk, but with a thin, stern mark of power
and veneration.
His
eyes were a mask of his heart. Cold, steely gray with fine elegant ends, his
eyes showed the arrogance and ambitiousness in his blood and pride but never a
shiny, hearty joy. The wind mussed the long, white blonde hair of the young
man, as long locks fall on his face to cover his eyes like a curtain covering
something personal.
The
town knew the truth, the real identity of this young man. He had been destined
to be their prince, but old King Deimon had left his throne at the hands of a
stranger called Tom Marvolo Riddle, the great Lord
Voldemort. Great Lucius Malfoy gave little concern about it, but he had asked
his father with the elegant words that a high, rich class gentleman could have
heard:
normal\'>
not the throne, not the place to be venerate and be kissed at my feet. I care
less for that, but in this realm, so little but crowded, I grew up; I gave my
first steps and I thank my Great Salazar for what I have earned. A town molded
with his hands, he gave cleverness and pride, that it should not be thrown
away. He may have been ambitious, and powerful but not heartless. So I ask thee
to make me the mayor of this realm.”
normal\'>Don\'t even
know his name,
Won\'t ask or play that game,
We\'ve both been here before,
I lead him to the door
bone, descendant of the great founder of this town I am shocked, taken by
surprise by the words that have come from your mouth. I did not teach you such
fine and proud words, words that talk of the greatness of our surname and
ancestor. I am disappointed to not have chosen you as the next King of this
realm. Such words, forgive me! Words that have stopped my miserable heart’s
beat. I do not deserve to sit besides my great Salazar Slytherin; I shall be
punished with my flesh and blood.”
Lucius
Malfoy, heir of King Demion Malfoy, had preserved the
realms pride, cleanliness and elegancy. He had declared that a town stained
with starvation and humility is the realm of the weakling.
have been to live in this elegant realm of Hebi
has not been taught of our pride. Starvation and humility are a signs that
should not be seen in this realm. Our Great Slytherin did not want us to call
him weak! Shame on him, young Riddle! We are humans of power and glory, not
bastards of ignorance for money and power. I, for the name of Salazar
Slytherin, shall give the humble money and the starving food! So mote it be!”
If
there was something nice in this young man it was his hands. Every time he saw
a humble, stng mng man he would throw him five gold galleons and say just like
his father did:
go and clothe yourself, for Slytherin is wonderful and he will not tolerate to
see his people starve and walk naked.”
Nobody
dared to turn their heads and continue their business until he was out of sight.
He was respected in any way, venerated to say, because he was far richer than
the king himself. The Malfoys preserved the rights and the benefits that King
Riddle took away.
Gazes
and stares followed him to the end of the street where an elegant little bar
club stood, built with mellifluous wood. He took his hands from his cloak
pockets and turned the shiny handle of the bar’s door. He, with the turtle neck
of his cloak as his mask, smirked in satisfaction as the music stopped playing
and all the voices faded away as he made his way into the bar. He loved to hear
how the sound of his footsteps rebounded on the fine, polished wooden floor.
normal\'>I don\'t care
for your number or your story,
It\'s a one night thing.
Ten to five in the morning in the back seat I wt tet tell you no lies.
What we have is for now, nothing more nothing less.
I\'m tasting your lipswe uwe undress.
The
sound of leather fabrics swayed, followed by the soft ‘thum’
of someone sitting down on the luxury bar’s stool. The bartender let go of the
delicate glass in his hands that he polished clean everyday and approached the
white blonde young man. A clicking sound of a lighter was shortly after heard
and a warm fire lit the cigarette placed on his lips. He breathed in deeply and
breathed out smoke, as he placed the cigarette on his fingers.
He
looked at the pianist and nodded his head. Rapidly, the pianist continued
playing and people got back to their own business.
“Usual,”
the bartender said in a strong, firm voice, “I pressure Mr. Malfoy.”
He
shook his blonde locks away from his face. He dropped the cigarette down in a
crystal vase full of ashes.
“Yes,
Randy.”
“Say,
Young Malfoy,” said the bartender when Mr. Malfoy drank his glass, “I received
a new slave.”
Malfoy
put the glass down and leaned over, “Fresh meat?”
“Yes,
and a beginner to say,” He said grinning, “Still a virgin.”
normal\'>
normal\'>
I don\'t care for your number or your story,
It\'s a one night thing.
You left your doubts in the lobby and the dress you wore on the elevator floor.
All alone it\'s day, you broke the spell and went away.
But I\'ll never regret, our one night thing.
normal\'>
“Really?”
he asked intrigued.
“We’reyingying to make him lose his virginity but he’s very persistent.”
know,” he said in almost a murmur, “I love to see people lose their virginity
in my hands.” He placed fifteen gold Galleons on the bar.
“But,”
he protested, “That’s two much, young Malfoy!”
“High
amount for one week,” he said, “Send him to my flat.”
He
stood up and the music stopped. He walked silently towards the door as the
sound of his metal shoelaces once again rebounded in the fine polished wooden
floor of the place. He opened the door, nodded and left.
If
there was something different from the other towns and this one, it was the
people’s way of getting money faster: slaves. Some night clubs had slave
sellers within; they rent people for other people to have pleasure for fun.
The
Malfoys were the ones who mostly bought and rented slaves for work and pleasure
all the same, since they were the ones who proposed the idea. People had heard
Young Malfoy, since sixteen, had rented slaves, either women or men, for
pleasurable sex, but nobody ever dared to say he’s bisexual, since hardly
anyone in the town is straight.
Their
arrogance and physical attraction came from the one who founded the realm:
Salazar Slytherin, making them direct descendants.
If
there was something that made the Malfoys different from everyone else, apart
from their wealth, it was their magical blood. The Malfoys were highly
powerful, and trained for magical encounters. They were also known around the
ability to control it with ease. That’s why people never dared to defy them.
normal\'>Not too late,
12 o\' clock
When I hit the scene,
The club is packed the ladies hot
Players doing their routine
I didn\'t know I was being watched,
Turned around to see,
Burning eyes, target locked
As he walked right up to me
The
sound of moving keys was heard. He pushed the polished wooden door open and
stepped inside. He could hear voices in his room and the struggling of a man
held against his will. He entered his room and his heart stopped beating. The
two men held the slave pinned on the bed, lying on his stomach. Young Malfoy
could not believe his eyes, why something so beautiful could have landed in the
hands of a slave seller.
He
was the same age as him; nineteen. Through his eyes was reflected the wet green
grass of a lonely farm; dark emerald. His skin was a mixture of creamy tan, so
delicate and untouchable from the human hand. His hair was messy black-jet,
wild and free unlike his new reputation. On his neck, was a burned mark of a
curvy elegant S; the slave’s mark. His white shirt was ragged and dirty, only
his trousers and boots were in well conditions. Oh! The beauty was with this
man! He was blessed by it.
“Now
boys, be nice to him,” he sat besides the messy haired young man, “Besides he’s
still a beginner.”
The
two men let go of him and he grabbed the young man’s chin and looked into his
eyes. “You two may go.” They just grumped and left them alone.
He
shook his chin away from fine fingers. “Rude, are we?”
“Nobody
has ever resisted my charms…”
“I’m
not a slave, you whore!” Young Malfoy hit him hard on the face leaving red
marks on his creamy, tan skin.
“You
still have a lot to learn. Begin by watching your mouth.”
The
young man growled at him. “I’m going to remove the cuffs, keep your hands to
yourself.” He took the cuffs off and something hit him hard in the face. He
blinked his eyes as pain ran through his cheek and jaw. The messy haired young
man raised his fist to hit him once again.
He
saw this and shoved his hand up. A wavy force hit the black haired man’s fist
and stopped it in mid air and with his other hand he touched his injured jaw.
“Impulsive
man, shame on you!” he yelled, “Nobody has ever touched the face of a Malfoy
with such barbarous actions. I warned you, yet you refused to listen. ‘Keep
your hands to yourself’ my lips said.”
“Fuck
you, Malfoy!” he yelled. It made the corner of Young Malfoy’s lips twitch. He
waved his hand, sending the black haired young man flying and slamming into the
wall.
normal\'>Girl say one
night thing, let me hear you sing,
If you had a one night, one night thing
Guys say one night thing, let me hear you sing,
If you had a one night, one night thing.
“Stained
words have never left the people’s lips of this realm. I am Draco Malfoy, Old
Lucius’s heir and I will not tolerate a slave like you to address me in this
manner!” He ripped the young man’s shirt off as he continued to use his
telekinesis power on him.
“I
will not let go of you until I hear a moan from your lips and by then end of
the week make you a true sex slave,” Draco whispered on the slave’s ear.
“Do
not dare to touch me!”
“Slave,
you are at my mercy,” The young man’s eye widens and his hand turned into
fists.
“Stop!”
“So
you are persistent as told,” Draco looked like he was moving his hand as fast
as he could. The slave closed his eyes and bit his lips yet he did not dare to
move an inch of his body.
“Release
your desire,” Draco whispered and dropped to his knees. Minutes later the slave
yelled. When he stood up the slave fell on his body and Draco clucked.
“That,
my slave, is only the first step.”
“How
long this will be?” he asked too tired to raise his head from Draco’s shoulder
and looked at his eyes.
normal\'>I don\'t care
for your number or your story,
It\'s a one night thing.
Ten to five in the morning in the back seat I won\'t tell you no lies.
What we have is for now, nothing more nothing less.
I\'m tasting your lips as we undress.
“A
week, my slave, but I do not work fast, especially to a beginner. I take my
time, so you shall not have to worry if you have never done it.”
The
slave frowned and buried his head on his shoulder, “It’ll be hurtful! At least
be gentle with me.”
“If
you follow my orders everything will be gentle.”
“Please,
let me sleep, I am tired master,” the young man said, knowing he had to live
with this man for a week.
Draco
traced the back of the slave’s bare spine with his fine fingers, “Gladly my
slave.”
The
slave shivered at his cold touch and as soon as he hit the bed he fell asleep
within his new and first master’s arms.
normal\'>
normal\'>
I don\'t care for your number or your story,
It\'s a one night thing.
You left your doubts in the lobby and the dress you wore on the elevator floor.
All alone it\'s day, you broke the spell and went away.
But I\'ll never regret, our one night thing.
Notes:
Yes, the end sucks!
¹:
Phrase from The Novel Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthrone
font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:\"Times New Roman\"\'>²