Broken

Title: Broken
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: H/D
Words: 1,734
Warning: noncon, bondage, various other naughty things I never thought I would write about.
Summary: Has bes been captured and he is Draco’s toy.
A/N: I don’t know that I have a typical style yet, but I don’t really think this is it. This is for a challenge from ninjette72. I wrote it in about 30 minutes and it hasn’t been properly betaed so please be gentle in that regard.
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter and will earn nothing from this twisted little story.

Harry hung limply, the chains digging deeply into his wrists. His feet dragged the ground and there wasn’t even the slight comfort of a wall to lean into, as he was placed in the center of some darkened room.

Green eyes had searched the nooks and crannies and crevices of that space countless times for weaknesses, hope, anything to take his mind off the pain in his arms, shoulders, body. But there was nothing. Only damp walls expunging mold and dank into the air that filled his lungs.

He had been here for days, or years, he couldn’t be sure anymore.

The door opened and his head shot up and beyond its intended destination, jerking at the already strained muscles in his neck. Grey eyes approached him and a hand snapped his head back down. Relief spread through him at the sight of his lover. “Draco, thank Merlin,” he started.

The blond crushed him into silence with a fierce kiss. Those smoky eyes caught his again and Harry thought, for a moment, that something was missing from them. Before he could follow that idea to fruition, however, a shocking pain overtook him. Draco was viciously biting his lower lip, not only drawing blood, but ripping through the flesh there.

The supposed spy backed away from Harry and conjured a table into the corner, replete with all sorts of sordid toys that might have, in a slightly more normal situation, thrilled Harry. Eyeing the objects suspiciously, he had time to identify a paddle, whip, and an ass plug before his face was manually turned back to face forward.

“Ah, ah,you you have been a very naughty boy, Mr. Potter. And now you must be punished,” Draco was saying all of this softly as he was placing two long, bent straws into Harry’s nostrils, scraping the inside so that he winced. “Don’t worry Harry, this won’t hurt me a bit.”

Harry’s eyes widened as Draco reached around his head and pulled a mask down, plunging Harry into darkness. It was then that he realized what the straws were for. There hardly seemed enough air flowing through those tiny holes to oxygenate his brain.

He had forgotten the gash through his bottom lip until he swallowed nervously and tasted the thick, metallic blood that traveled down his palate. Gagging, he struggled for air when he felt hands rip the clothes from his body.
A syrupy sweet voice cooed in his ear, “Do you trust me, Harry? Do you?”


****

Draco walked over to the table and eyed his weapons longingly. “Which to start with? Which to start with?” His hand ghosted over the variety until it came to rest on an odd cone-shaped object. He looked at the body that had jumped to attention in nervous anticipation of his next action.

Tucking the toy in the crook of his arm, he strolled around to the back of his real-life toy. Licking his hand, he slapped Harry hard on the ass. The body in front of him jumped in reaction. Smiling, he pried the boy’s ass cheeks apart, eyeing the little rosebud just waiting for him to open it up.

Slipping the plug down to his hand, he leaned forward and delicately whispered, “Are you still tight, Harry? I hope so. I hope you’re so fucking tight that I rip you apart.”

And without the aid of any lubrication other than the spittle his hand had left, he thrust the plug deeply into Harry’s ass. The masked boy arched his back and cried out with his own blood bubbling in his throat, “Draco, no, not like this, please! No…not like this!”

The words were lost on the Slytherin. He left his toys, both Harry and the one still hanging from Harry’s now-bleeding hole, and returned to the table to fetch a new amusement. He picked up the whip, fingering it playfully.

“Now, now, my little Gryffindor, you mustn’t interrupt. The more you fight, the worse it will be for you. I’ll let you choose your next punishment. Would you rather a paddle or this lovely little whip? Oh, that’s right, you can’t see my lovely little whip. Well, let me tell you about it,” Draco circled the body that was noticeably quivering. “It’s long and thick, just like the cock I’m going to shove into you later. It’s splayed and has tiny barbs on the tips. So, Harry, which will it be?”

A small sob escaped the masked figure. Cracking the whip on the floor, Draco shouted at him, “What?! I couldn’t fucking hear you, you little bitch! I want you to choose your punishment!”

“Wh-Wh-” Harry whimpered.

“Whip, you said? Good decision,” Draco’s voice returned to its smooth tone as he let the whip fly across Harry’s back once.

Every muscle in Harry’s body viy coy constricted and he yelled in a voice that rang clear and echoed momentarily in the small room. “WHY?”

Draco let the whip fly across his ass and thighs, smiling at the crimson dots beading up where the barbs ripped into his toy’s flesh. “Why, Harry? Why?”

Another lashing down his back. “Because, because this is what I do.”

Once more on his legs and the sobs grew quiet. Draco continued in a soft, almost feminine voice. “This is my job. How do you think I have been kept out of the accusations? Because fucking Dumbledore protected me for being one of the precious spies? No, no.”

Dropping the whip to the floor, Draco crossed back to the table to choose another new plaything. “Poor, naïve Harry. I have to do something for the Dark Lord or else he would know that I was spy. This is my job. I break people…Are you broken yHarrHarry? You will be.”

Musing over his options, he nodded to himself and returned to his living toy, his hands empty. He reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, flicking his hand and releasing Harry’s wrists from the chains. The body collapsed to the floor with a dull thud.

Reaching down, he jerked the boy back up by a shoulder and threw him facedown across the table. Conjuring more chains, he locked Harry in place, sprawled out with his ass open for the taking.

Harry’s breath was coming in short pants and he had long ago quit begging for Draco to stop. He had given up any hope of relief. Picking up the paddle, Draco slammed it across his toy’s cheeks, leaving a bright pink welt blooming against the white skin.

It bothered Draco that Harry had stopped responding. That the only sound in the room besides the satisfying crack of paddle against skin was Harry’s shallow breathing. Momentarily, he lost his temper, beating his toy with such ferocity that a sheen of sweat could be seen across his own forehead.

He stopped when he heard a new noise in the room. Raising an eyebrow, he listened. Then the stench met his nose and he recognized the sound. Harry was choking on the bile that could not escape his mask. Harry was being forced to swallow his own vomit.

Draco laughed and just stopped himself from clapping his hands in utter glee.

Instead, he asked, gently, so gently, “Are you broken yet, Harry?”

It took a few seconds before the reply came from that bloodied, smelly mask. “No.”

Infuriated, Draco forced his toy’s ass apart and shoved his cock deep into the crevice there. It was tight, wonderfully tight. And Draco closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of this. He pulled himself out and thrust back in roughly.

He plunged in and out. Pausing with his dick delved into Harry’s hole, Draco heard a tiny sound coming from his toy. Was that a moan? Was his toy enjoying this? This was for his pleasure. There was nothing in this for his toy.

Forgetting his wand, he physically jerked Harry from his shackles and threw him to the floor. He kicked him in the gut and about the head. He cursed and punched at the body before him.

Slowly, a wicked smile crawled across his features and Draco hauled Harry back up and into the overhead chains.

He slipped his cock back into Harry and began pushing deeper, brushing against his toy’s prostate. Again, the tiny moan escaped from the body in front of him. Reaching around he grabbed his toy’s own throbbing dick in his hand.

Gently, always gently, he spoke to his toy, “So, this is the way to break you, then? Does it disgust you that this turns you on? That your body responds to this? I bet it does, my little Gryffindor. I bet it kills you to know that my fucking you like this is going to get you off. You are a sick little pervert.”

He pumped harder and harder and his toy released in his hand just as he felt his own climax deep within Harry. His toy cried out, “NO!” and shuddered.

Draco pulled himself out roughly and went around in front of his toy. “Well, are you broken yet?”

The masked face, which had been lolling to the side, stiffened and faced straight ahead. Draco waited and slapped the mask. His eyes rolled back in his head when he heard his toy’s response.

“No. You cannot break me.”

Livid, Draco took the ends of the straws in his hands, plugging the holes with his thumbs. He leaned in, for the first time his voice gaining a steely quality, “If I can’t break you, then I’ll fucking kill you.”

He held onto those straws until the body before him writhed and kicked at him, fighting for desperately needed oxygen.

And he would have continued holding on, had a voice not broken into his mind. We’re not through with him yet. Let him live. You may have your fun with him.

He released the straws and cursed under his breath. He removed his toy’s mask and placed it back on the table. Leaning in, the softness returning to his voice, he whispered, “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll be back.”

He turned and Harry cried out to him. “Why? I loved you! I loved you!”

And because Harry’s eyes were closed against the sight of his lover leaving, he couldn’t see the potion wearing off, couldn’t see that it was Bellatrix Lestrange’s face smiling as she closed the door of his cell.