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Chapter Text

Harry slowly fades into consciousness, his thoughts sluggish. He’s lying on hard ground, but he’s used to that from hiding out in forests with Hermione and Ron.

The last thing he remembers is the battle at Hogwarts. After Harry died, the fighting had continued until…

Harry bolts upright, suddenly completely awake.

They lost.

Voldemort and the death eaters had won, had rounded up and killed or captured the remaining members of the Order, and all those who fought on their side.

Harry himself had been hit with a spell, tortured to watch as his friends were killed in front of him but unable to move or help them. Then he had been spelled unconscious.

Until now. Harry shivers, then frowns as he looks down at himself. He’s fully naked.

Fortunately, he’s not tied down, so he stands up to inspect his holding cell. It’s about the size of Ron’s room at the Burrow, but with no furniture, nothing that he could interact with or turn into a weapon. Of course, his wand is also missing.

Despite this, Harry turns toward the cell door. He pulls on the door, just to try it, but it’s locked tight. He puts his hand through the cell bars, and tries the handle from the other side, but it’s no use.

Harry sighs, then closes his eyes. He focuses on the lock, and how much he wants it to be open. “Alohomora!” he says.

Nothing happens. Harry curses under his breath. Either the cell door is warded to withstand the Alohomora spell, or Harry is crap at wandless magic.

He tries again and again, over and over again, and even tries a few other unlocking spells more powerful than alohomora, but nothing works.

Eventually, Harry decides to conserve his energy - he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time he ate - and slumps down to the ground. Someone will come by at some point, and they’ll have to open the cell door. Harry will surprise them with an attack, maybe grab their wand if he can, and then escape.

It’s as good of a plan as he can figure out at the moment. He thinks helplessly of Hermione, and what she would do in this situation, but it’s no use. Hermione is dead, just like the rest of his friends.

Harry isn’t sure what he’ll do after escaping. Voldemort won, so Britain is no longer safe. He should flee the country. But where will he go? What will he do? He can’t just let Voldemort rule over the country. But what can Harry do? There’s no more Order, no more rebellion. He’s not sure if anyone from his side escaped, and even if they did, he wouldn’t begin to know where to search for them.

One step at a time, Harry reminds himself, shivering from the cool air brushing against his naked body.

Harry is deep in thought about his escape plan when he hears footsteps approach his cell. He turns towards the sound to see Voldemort himself approaching. Harry watches as Voldemort’s snake like face twists into a sinister smile.

Voldemort reaches the door to Harry’s door, and stops in front of it. Harry can see him through the bars. He stares at Harry for a minute, as if letting the moment sink in. Harry glares back at him, using his hand to cover his private area. “Settling in well, Harry Potter?”

“Let me go.” Harry demands, even though he knows he has nothing to offer. He could offer to flee, to never come back. But even if Voldemort were to agree to that - which was doubtful - Harry could never stay away forever. He would never be able to stop fighting, not until Voldemort was gone.

Voldemort laughs. “Oh? And why would I do that?”

Harry grits his teeth. “Fine, then give me my wand and let me fight. That’s what you wanted before, right? A fair fight.”

“We already had a fair fight,” Voldemort reminds him. “You lost.”

Shame spirals around Harry. It was true, he hadn't been good enough. All of the work he did, all of Dumbledore's plans, gone to waste. "Then what are you waiting for?” Harry snarls. “Just kill me and be done with it.”

Voldemort's smile widens. “Harry,” he says, almost fondly. “I’m not going to kill you. Your fate is far worse than that. But you'll learn.”

He'll be tortured then. At least Bellatrix had been killed during the battle, so he didn't have to worry about her sadist torture techniques.

Voldemort's pulls a key out of his robe pocket and his hand moves towards the doorknob outside the cell. Harry tenses. This could be his chance.

He waits until the door has been unlocked and is fully open before he rushes at Voldemort. He plans to sock the other man in the face, and then maybe quickly check his pockets for a wand. But before he reaches Voldemort, the other man raises a hand and with a wordless spell, chains burst out of the ceiling and wrap around Harry's wrists, pulling his arms up so they're completely outstretched. Chains also burst from the ground and wrap around his ankles, keeping him in place.

Harry struggles against the chains but they only grow tighter, until he can barely move.

He glares at Voldemort, but Voldemort just laughs and approaches him. “Was that the best you could do? Attack me in some half formed escape attempt?” he mocks. Voldemort raises a hand and brings it to Harry's face. Harry tries to move his head away, but his motion is limited. Voldemort scratches his nails down Harry's cheek, hard enough to hurt but not quite drawing blood. “Soon you'll learn how futile escape is. But first,” Voldemort trails off, then pulls out a wand from his robe pocket. “You'll be punished for your insolence.”

At the sight of a wand, Harry yanks again at the chains, but he's unable to move his arms at all.

Voldemort smiles, the looks Harry up and down, before walking around him, inspecting him. Harry feels more exposed then he ever has before, standing there completely naked with his arms raised and his legs parted, tied down to the floor.

Harry flinches as he feels the impact of a hand hitting his buttcheck. “Wha-” he starts before he feels hands parting his buttchecks, and cool air touches his exposed arsehole. Panic fills Harry, and he struggles further, to no avail.

A thin wooden item pokes at his hole, and Harry realizes with a start that it's Voldemort's wand. “Wait,” he protests, “Stop!”

But Voldemort continues, pushing his wand inside the ringed muscle. Harry tries to move away but the wand is just rammed further up his hole. Harry has never had anything up his arsehole before, and even though the wand is thin, it's very long and his hole is dry and the feeling is incredibly uncomfortable. And that's not to mention how degrading the act of having his arch nemesis shove an object up his arse feels.

“Stop!” He says again. “Take it out!”

“Beg,” Voldemort demands. “Beg me to stop.”

Harry closes his mouth. He could beg, and maybe Voldemort would stop. But maybe he'd just make fun of Harry for begging, and keep going. No, Harry refused to beg Voldemort for anything.

He kept his mouth shut.

Voldemort chuckled. “Suit yourself,” he says. Then, with his wand still up Harry's arsehole, “Crucio”

The pain is overwhelming, and Harry cannot think of anything other then the agony shuddering through his muscles. The pain seems to come from inside of him. It lasts for a long time, too long. Harry wishes he would pass out, then he wishes he would die, so the pain would be over.

It isn't until Voldemort lifts the curse, minutes, hours later, that Harry realizes his throat is sore from screaming. He also must have bit his tongue at some point, because there's a coppery taste inside his mouth.

Harry lets out a panting breath, then a sharp inhale as Voldemort removes the wand from his arse.

Harry waits a beat, not sure what to expect next. Then, he gasps as a hot stinging begins on his back. Voldemort is carving into his skin, creating some kind of pattern that Harry can't discern. The pain, while not as all-encompassing as the crucio, is white hot. It continues on for a few minutes, Harry occasionally twitching in pain, while Voldemort quietly works on carving up Harry's back.

Finally, he finishes. “Perfect,” Voldemort says.

Then, the chains tying Harry's arms up to the ceiling are magically brought down to the ground. Harry stumbles and falls to the floor, on his hands and knees. His muscles ache from the torture curse, but still he tries to move around in his new position. Unfortunately, the chains are still holding him tight, so he has no choice but to remain on his hands and knees.

His butt is resting against his heels on the ground, but Voldemort's strong hands lifts him up by the hips so his butt is in the air.

“Hey!” Harry complains, as he hears rustling fabric behind him. “What are you-” he stops as he feels a thick shaft press against the outside of his furled hole. His eyes widen in horror as he realizes that Voldemort's cock is about to breach his arsehole. “No!” He says, struggling to move away from the cock. “Get away from me!”

There's a sharp slap against his buttcheek. “Stop struggling, you'll only make it worse for yourself,” Voldemort advises. He places his hands on Harry's bare hips to better stabilize himself.

But still, Harry continues to struggle, unable to let this happen without trying to get out of the situation.

Voldemort laughs in response. “Though, I suppose if you keep struggling, it'll be more fun for me.” And with that he pushes his cock inside Harry's tight channel. Harry lets out a scream as the cock is shoved inside his dry hole. The small amount of precum on the tip of Voldemort's dick does nothing to ease the pain. Harry feels like his arse is being torn to shreds.

Voldemort moans in response. “That's it,” he says, thrusting even deeper until his hips are flush with Harry's, “Scream for me, whore!”

Harry wants to stop screaming, to not give Voldemort the satisfaction, but Voldemort pulls almost all the way out before slamming inside of Harry once more, causing Harry to let out another scream.

Voldemort continues fucking into Harry, moaning out occasionally as he chases his own pleasure. After a couple more thrusts, the dry walls of his arse start to slick up, and Harry is relieved for a moment before he realizes the slick substance is likely his own blood from Voldemort's cock tearing at his inner walls. Harry feels tears come to his eyes, but he quickly blinks them away.

Voldemort shifts, and thrusts again, and Harry gasps as he feels a flicker of pleasure temporarily overpower the pain. He feels guilty immediately after. How on earth could he feel any amount of pleasure while being raped? But then Voldemort's cock presses hard against that spot once more, and Harry lets out a moan.

“Oh?” Voldemort says, sounding amused. “Do you like that, my pet?” He accentuates his point with a sharp thrust against Harry's prostate. “Tell me how much you like it,” he demands.

Harry bites his lip so as to not let out another moan, before saying, “F-fuck you.”

Voldemort lets out a cruel laugh. “I'll be doing all the fucking around here, pet.” Then his hand slips around Harry's waist and he wraps a hand around Harry's cock.

Harry lets out a hiss at the dry friction. “Let me go!” he yells.

But Voldemort just twists his hand, and begins pumping Harry's limp cock. It quickly hardens under Voldemort's attention. “Eager are we?” Voldemort says, as he continues thrusting into Harry's arse.

Harry bites his tongue instead of responding. With no other choice, he lets himself be ragdolled by Voldemort's cock for another few minutes as Voldemort's hand expertly stimulates his own cock. There's no sound except for the pounding of Voldemort's hips against Harry's arse, and the slick sound of Harry's precum being spread around his own cock by Voldemort's hand.

Harry can feel his orgasm approaching, even as his hatred for the other man burns. “Once I get out of here, I'm going to kill you,” Harry says in a promise.

Voldemort just laughs, and increases his ministrations along Harry's cock.

Harry tenses, then lets out an embarrassing moan as he crests his orgasm, spurting white semen against the cell floor.

His arsehole tightens around Voldemort's cock, and Voldemort moans in response. “Such a tight little hole,” he says, then moves his hand away from Harry's cock and back to his hip for a better grip. He then sets a punishing pace of thrusting fast and hard into Harry's sensitive hole.

Harry lets out more embarrassing moans, unable to stop himself in his post-coital sensitivity.

Voldmort speeds up further, spanking a few smacks against Harry's arse. Then, in a cruel act, Voldemort picks up his wand and curses, “Crucio.”

Harry's arse tightens around Voldmort's dick in his arse as the pain overwhelms him, inadvertently milking Voldemort's cock. Voldemort moans in pleasure as he cums inside Harry's arse, all while Harry is twitching in pain.

After Voldemort recovers from his orgasm, he stops the torture spell, and Harry lets out a violent breath. They pant together for a few moments until Voldemort pulls himself out of Harry with a slick ‘pop’. Harry can feel Voldemort's thick semen trailing out of his hole, and flushes.

Voldemort tuts as he walks around to Harry's front. “You've made a mess of my cock, pet.”

Harry briefly glances at Voldemort's cock, which he hasn't seen before now. He gulps as he takes in the size, that thing had been inside him! It was also coated in blood. Harry's blood, he realized distantly.

“Well?” Voldemort says, taking a step closer so his cock is right in front of Harry's face. “What are you waiting for? Clean it for me.”

Harry doesn't think he means with water and a washcloth. Voldemort quickly takes the guesswork away by shoving his dick at Harry's mouth.

Harry clenches his lips together and turns away. But Voldemort grabs him by the hair and turns him to face forward, before shoving his dick towards Harry's mouth. When Harry still refuses to open his mouth, Voldemort uses his other hand to block Harry's nostrils from getting air. Harry waits until he can no longer breath before opening his mouth to gasp for air, and Voldemort takes the chance to shove his dick inside Harry's open mouth. “If you bite,” he warns. “You'll regret it.”

Harry, of course, immediately bites down as hard as he can, and revels in the pained groan that Voldemort lets out. He pulls his dick out of Harry's mouth, then slaps him across the face. “I said you would regret it.” Voldemort says.

First he uses magic to quickly heal the bite marks on his dick. Then he points his wand at Harry's bare feet and mutters a spell. Immediately Harry screams as one of his toenails is magically removed from his toe, leaving behind a bloody wound.

“Would you like for me to keep going?” Voldemort says, twirling his wand.

Harry clenches his mouth tight.

Voldemort shrugs. “So be it.” Then another toenail is removed from a toe. Harty doesn't scream this time, but let's out a pained grunt. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Voldemort offers, idly.

Another toenail is removed. Then another, and Harry can barely breath through the pain. After the fifth one, Harry lets out a pained whimper.

Voldemort lets out an exasperated sigh. “My pet,” he says, almost gently. "All you have to do is ask, and I'll stop. So? Do you want me to keep going?”

Hesitantly, Harry shakes his head.

Voldmort smiles. “Tell me to stop, then.”

“S-stop.”

“Say please.”

Harry swallows, looks down. “Please,” he whispers.

“Good boy,” Voldemort says with a smirk. "Now, you're going to lick the blood off my cock. You know what happens if you bite.”

Harry nods.

“Open up,” Voldemort says, pushing his cock towards Harry's mouth.

Afraid to defy Voldemort again, he opens his mouth obediently. Voldemort places his cock inside Harry's mouth.

“Go ahead,” Voldemort says. “Clean it off for me.”

Harry tentatively licks his tongue around the tip of Voldemort's cock in his mouth, attempting to clean it the best he can.

Voldemort shoves deeper inside, and Harry chokes for a second, before he realizes he can breath through his nose. He regains his breath, and then licks around the shaft.

After a couple minutes of this, Voldemort pulls out and inspects his cock. It's mostly free of blood. “Good enough,” he says, then he grabs Harry but the hair and thrusts his cock back inside Harry's mouth, all the way into his throat, making Harry gag.

Harry gags around the cock in his throat as Voldemort thrusts a few times. “I was going to stop after you cleaned me off,” Voldemort admits. “But your mouth just feels so lovely.”

Tightening his grip on Harry's hair, Voldemort begins face fucking him in earnest.

Harry continues gagging around the long shaft, but the way his throat contracts only serves to make Voldemort's pleasure increase, as he lets out moans everytime Harry gags around him.

When Harry is starting to feel faint and sure he's going to fall unconscious soon, Voldemort's grip on Harry's hair tightens and he tenses inside Harry's mouth before he orgasms, and his spend is flowing down Harry's throat. With the dick still in his mouth, Harry has no choice but to swallow.

Voldemort ruts a few lazy times into Harry's mouth before pulling completely out.

As Voldemort tucks himself away, he chuckles to himself. “Oh yes, you'll do nicely. Once we train you up a bit more, you'll be the perfect whore for my death eaters.”

Harry's blood runs cold. He realizes with a fresh feeling of horror that this is only the beginning.

Chapter Text

Harry's training to become a whore is long and brutal.

He's still in his cell, and generally he is still tied up, unless Voldemort wants him in a different position. His wrists and ankles ache from the constant pressure of the chains.

Throughout his ‘training’, Voldemort teaches him to only refer to Voldemort as “Master” or “Sir”, and in return Harry is forced to respond to “Whore” or “Pet” or any number of degrading names.

The training is enforced through various methods of torture. Harry's remaining nails are torn off, his skin is carved further, some of his teeth are pulled out, among other methods.

The rape is also constant, though Voldemort has yet to follow through on his threat to let Harry be raped by the other death eaters. Still, at least once a day Voldemort will come down to the cell and rape his throat and his arsehole. Most days though, it's closer to three times.

Harry is only able to tell the days apart because he's fed twice a day, once in the morning and once at night.

Ironically, his meals are served to him by none other than Draco Malfoy. It's through Draco that Harry learns how long time is passing. If Harry asks, Draco will tell him what day it is.

It's also through Draco that Harry learns what Voldemort had carved onto his back that first day.

‘Cum Dumpster’ with an arrow pointing down to his arsehole. Harry doesn't respond to anything Draco says that day after that revelation.

The next day Draco comes back, he magics the food through the door and bites his lip, standing there awkwardly for a moment.

“I'm sorry,” he says after a moment.

Harry's eyes flicker up to the other boy. He looks as tortured as Harry feels, deep bags under his eyes, and defeated posture.

“You didn't carve it,” Harry says moodily, not wanting to completely gloss over Draco's crimes, while also not blaming him for Voldemort's.

Draco winces before clearing his throat. “I meant in general. I'm sorry you're here, and for everything he's doing to you. I wish - I wish there was a way for me to help.”

Harry's eyes narrow at Draco. “Why would I believe you? You've always hated me.”

Draco swallows. “Maybe,” he allows. “But this- this is- I never wanted this.”

Harry looks down, his head spinning. He licks his lips. “Then help me,” he insists. “Get me out of here, and I'll figure out a way to stop him. It doesn't have to be like this.”

Harry's heartbeat increases as he considers escape for the first time in so long.

But Draco hesitates. Before he can respond, a voice calls from down the hall, “What's this pet? Are you still plotting your escape?”

Harry's blood freezes to ice. Draco jumps and turns in fear to Voldemort as he approaches. “My Lord!” He says. “I would never-”

Voldemort clasps a hand on Draco's shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Of course, young Malfoy. You wouldn't dare help our little whore escape. You know what the consequences would be, not just for you, but for your parents."

Draco's gaze hardens. He nods.

Voldemort smiles. “Good! But there's still the issue of my little pet's plotting.” He smiles cruelly at Draco. “Perhaps you'd like to help with the punishment.”

“Oh,” Draco says, branching. “I don't know if I -”

“It wasn't a question.” Voldemort says before opening the lock to Harry's cell and ushering Draco inside before coming inside himself and closing the door. “You should be honored. You're the first of my death eaters I've invited to rape my pet.”

“No,” Harry says instinctively. While being around Draco Malfoy was not his favorite thing, it was vastly superior to his time around Voldemort. But if Draco were to become his rapist too -

Well. Harry would have no reprieve. And Voldemort knew that.

Draco stiffens, his face blatantly showing his hesitation. “I wouldn't want to overstep, my lord,” he attempts.

“Nonsense,” says Voldemort. “I wouldn't offer up my pet if I didn't mean it.”

Draco gulps and glances at Harry. Harry glares at him. “Don't you come near me,” Harry snarls.

“Crucio,” Voldemort says, sounding bored. Harry spasms as pain fills his senses. “You don't get a choice in this, my pet.” He pushes Draco forward, and Draco stumbles towards Harry.

Harry glares at Draco until the other boy disappears behind him, but doesn't say anything further, not wanting to be tortured again. Harry can hear the rustling of fabric, and then Draco spits in his own hand and coats his cock with it. He doesn't take the time to stretch out Harry before he's lining up his cock, but neither does Voldemort. At least the spit as lubricant is better than nothing but blood.

With a grunt, he pushes himself inside, slowly, inch by inch. Harry cries out in pain as the cock fills him up. After a minute Draco has still not pushed all the way in, so Harry hisses, “Just get on with it.”

Draco pushes the rest of the way inside, and they both let out a moan, Draco's in pleasure and Harry's in pain. Draco pulls out and pushes back in experimentally, before setting a pace and fucking repeatedly into Harry.

Unlike Voldemort, he doesn't talk as he rapes Harry, doesn't gloat. But still he thrusts again and again.

After a few minutes, Harry begins to thrust back into him, and clench his arsehole around the cock up his arse, in an effort to end the torture sooner. Draco moans as he does so and thrusts harder, making Harry grunt with each thrust.

Another few minutes of grunting and thrusting, and then finally Draco thrusts one last time deep inside Harry and spills his seed, shuddering through an orgasm.

Harry feels tears come to his eyes, knowing his school enemy just came inside of him.

Draco pulls out of Harry's hole with a squelch. “Merlin,” he mutters, as Harry can feel his seed spill out of Harry's hole and down his perineum.

“Marvelous job, young Malfoy,” Voldemort says as Draco stuffs himself back inside his pants. “What did you think? Isn't he a perfect little slut.”

Draco nods obediently. “Yes, he's good for a fuck.”

Voldemort smiles. “Very well. You may leave. I have some business to attend to with Harry.”

Harry tenses. What kind of business? Was he going to torture harry more for the escape attempt? Or was he here to rape Harry once more?

Draco bows to Voldemort and scurries away, like the little ferret he is.

Voldemort stands over Harry, smiling. “It seems you're going to need more training than I thought. You don't quite understand your place yet, do you pet?” With a wave of his wand, a large mechanical device appeared. Some kind of torture device? It looks like there is a place for him to place his knees, and a place to rest his hands. But there were also two dildos attached, one appeared to be around where his mouth would be, and another where his arse would be.

It was a raping device, he realized, feeling nauseous.

Voldemort waved his wand once more, and Harry's chains were removed. Weak from not moving for many days in a row, he collapses on the ground.

He attempts to lift himself up - he's weak, but maybe he could still surprise Voldemort and steal his wand - but Voldemort quickly picks him up off the floor and guides him into the device, with his knees on the pads, and his arms on the bar, with his arse sticking out. Harry tries to fight back but he's no match for a full strength Voldemort.

“Quick quiz, my dear pet,” Voldemort says. “What's my name?”

“Tom Riddle,” Harry says, even though he knows he'll be tortured for it. But he's feeling especially irritated today.

“Crucio,” Voldemort curses and Harry screams at the pain. Voldemort releases it and then says, “That's ‘Master’, or ‘Lord’ to you. Go on, what's my name?”

Gritting his teeth, not wanting to be tortured further, Harry mumbles, “Master.”

A slap on his arse. “I couldn't hear you. What's my name?”

“Master!” Harry says.

“Good boy. Now, repeat after me. “Master,”

“Master.”

“Please train me.”

“Please train me.”

“To take multiple cocks at once.”

Harry grits his teeth, and Voldemort retaliates with another spank. “If you repeat,” Voldemort says, “I'll give you lube.”

Harry bites his tongue. The lube is tempting. Voldemort always fucks him dry, with no lube other then Harry's blood. But was he really going to go along with Voldemort's little mind game and beg to take multiple cocks at once?

“Let's start over. Master.”

Harry is silent. A flat object quickly slaps against his arse, resulting in a sharp pain reverberating on his arsecheek. He twists around to see Voldemort is now holding a large wooden paddle with a smirk. “So you'd prefer it dry, then? Do you like the pain, pet? I'll give you pain.”

And then Harry is struck again, on the other arsecheek. He's hit again and again, sometimes on the cheek, sometimes on the upper thigh, and twice right on his balls. Harry lets out a scream at that one.

The paddling continues on for minutes, until Harry can no longer take it. “Please,” he begs.

Voldemort pauses. “Please what?” He asks.

“I'll repeat after you, just please stop.”

Voldemort smirks. “You'll repeat after me, but you won't receive any lube, not after your insolence.”

Harry growls in frustration. “I said please!” He reminds Voldemort.

That earns him another smack with the paddle. “No arguing. You'll get what I give you, no more, no less.”

Harry grits his teeth.

“Now, repeat after me. Master.”

“Master.”

“Please train me.”

“Please train me.”

“To take multiple cocks at once.”

“To take multiple cocks at once.”

“And to like it.”

Harry grits his teeth. “And to like it,” he spits out.

Finally, Voldemort is satisfied. He waves his wand and the paddle disappears. He brushes a hand around Harry's abused arse. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. Harry imagines it looks red and welted, and he's not sure what's so beautiful about that. Then Voldemort takes his hand away from Harry's arse. “Alright, now, I'm going to start this machine. It's called a fucking machine. It's going to pound your arse with a dildo, while your mouth is fucked with another dildo. Do you understand?”

Reluctantly, Harry nods.

“Good boy,” Voldemort says in a purr. He positions Harry in place, and then waves his wand. The machine whirs to life, and immediately the rubber dildo is shoved up his arse. He would squeal, but his mouth is similarly stuffed. The dildos mechanically move in and out of Harry's holes, and Harry winces as the dildo fucks his dry arsehole.

Harry is startled by another spank. “You're going to stay on this machine at all times, unless I'm fucking you.” Voldemort instructs.

Harry feels tears come to his eyes as he realizes his torture won't be over anytime soon.

Another spank. “While you're on there, I want you to think about how much of a slutty little whore you are. How much you liked getting fucked. You're not human any longer, you're nothing but a dumb little cockslut.”

A cum dumpster, Harry thinks sullenly, as he remembers the words carved into his back.

Another spank. “Oh, I nearly forgot the best part!” Voldemort waves his wand, and another extension comes out of the machine. Attached to the end of it is a fleshlight. The extension is moved with magic towards Harry's cock. Voldemort helps guide his cock inside the fleshlight, and then the fleshlight starts to move up and down by itself, starting to milk Harry's cock. Harry moans around the dildo in his mouth.

It was overstimulating, the dildo fucking his mouth, the thick dildo thrusting repeatedly into his arse, and now his own cock was being stimulated. Harry is also aware that Voldemort is now just watching Harry be fucked by this machine.

Still, he can't help but thrust slightly into the flashlight, reveling in the feeling of pleasure after all the pain. And while the dildo in his arse is tearing at his inner walls, it is also continuously pressing against his prostate.

After another few minutes of this, Harry feels his orgasm approaching. He tries to stop it, not wanting to show pleasure in front of Voldemort, but he quickle crests, and cums with a groan, his spend shooting onto the floor.

Part of him is hoping that Voldemort will stop this torture after that, but instead, Voldemort walks towards the door.

“See you in the morning, my pet,” he says. “I bet by then you'll be begging me to take you off the fucking machine to rape you.”

And with that, he leaves.

Harry is left in purgatory, feeling overstimulated from his orgasm, with no relief coming. He's plugged up in all directions, the dildo's that are spitroasting him are also keeping him in place.

He doesn't sleep that night, no matter how much he wishes for the blessing of unconsciousness, the pain and friction is too great for him to fall asleep. He shifts every once in a while to try for a more comfortable position, but every time he shifts he just feels the ache of his muscles.

He loses track of time. It could be minutes, hours, days. Harry has no idea. All he knows is the machine fucking him from both ends.

He cums multiple times over the night, though each orgasm takes longer than the last. Eventually there's a little pile of his own seed on the ground, and Harry stares at it.

Maybe he is a slut, like Voldemort said. He certainly seems like he's enjoying himself, or at least his cock is. Maybe this isn't punishment, but simply his lot in life. He's meant to be nothing but Voldemort's little pet.

These thoughts are still swirling around his exhausted mind when Voldemort returns, presumably the next morning.

“Well aren’t you a sight,” Voldemort says with a smirk.

Harry is sure he is, with the dildos still fucking in and out of his mouth and anus, his cock being fucked by the fleshlight, the pile of his own cum on the floor, and the tears and drool streaking down his face. He must look pathetic.

Voldemort looks delighted at this. With a wave of his wand he stops the machine. The dildo is stopped all the way inside of his arse, but the fleshlight has stopped moving, and the dildo fucking his mouth is stopped outside of his mouth, so he can breath freely for the first time in hours. He lets out a large sigh of relief.

“You have two choices.” Voldemort says. “First choice, I turn the machine back on, and you’ll be stuck in it until tonight. Second choice, you beg me to fuck you, and you get a short reprieve from the fucking machine while I fuck your arse. What will it be, pet?”

Harry is silent for a moment as he considers.

Voldemort shrugs “Alright then, fucking machine it is.” He waves his wand to restart the machine.

“No! No, please fuck me! Fuck me please master!”

Voldemort smiles. “Well, if you insist,” he says cruelly.

He manhandles Harry out of the fucking machine, and ties him down with chains once more, so Harry is on his hands and knees, with his arse sticking up in the air.

Voldemort stands behind Harry and laughs. He touches Harry’s sore hole. “Look at you, you’re gaping. I bet I could fit my whole fist in there.”

Harry tenses. “No,” he says instinctively.

Voldemort slaps him on the arse. “You don’t say no to me,” Voldemort corrects. “If I want to fist you, I will. Not today though, maybe another time.”

With that, he pulls out his cock and abruptly shoves it inside of Harry’s abused hole. Harry is pushed forward with the cock, and he sucks in a breath. Still, it’s better than the overwhelming feeling of the fucking machine.

Voldemort sets a brutal pace, fucking fast and hard into Harry. He lasts for a while though, as he always does.

Harry feels defeated, as he’s raped once more by the man who killed his parents. Maybe Voldemort had been right when he said any attempt at escape would be futile. Harry feels tears come to his eyes, and for the first time, he actually allows them to fall. He lets out a choked sob.

Voldemort’s thrusts increase in intensity. “Yes,” he says in a hiss. “Cry, you whore. Cry as I rape your hole, my pet.”

Harry’s tears fall faster, and he sobs harder as Voldemort seems to take pleasure in his tears. At one point Voldemort pulls out, and Harry turns his neck around to see him stroking himself to completion with his dick pointed at Harry’s arse. As he orgasms, he sprays his cum over Harry’s arse, marking it as his own.

After catching his breath, Voldemort returns Harry to the fucking machine, despite Harry’s protests. All his protests earn him are some additional smacks from the paddle while the machine fucks his arse and his mouth.

Voldemort leaves, and tears stream down Harry’s face as he's continually stuffed.

Chapter Text

Harry spends a week on the fucking machine, his only reprieve from it are the times he’s raped by his master. Halfway through the week, Harry stops fighting back so hard. The constant thrusts of the dildos in his arse and mouth, and the constant stimulation to his cock was overwhelming, and he was simply glad in the moments it wasn’t on.

After a full week on the machine, he’s completely worn down. He begins to look forward to seeing his master, as he knows it means he’ll no longer be overstimulated by the machine.

Each time, his master instructs Harry to beg to be fucked, and each time it gets a little easier for Harry to beg.

Currently, Harry is being fucked in the mouth and arse by the machine, while his cock is stimulated by the fleshlight. Harry finds himself daydreaming about when his master will return next. He’ll be very nice and polite, and beg his master to please fuck him.

Harry shudders through yet another orgasm, and is still shuddering through the aftershocks when his master approaches. Harry eagerly turns his head as much as he’s able to look at him, and his master waves his wand to stop the machine before entering the cell. With the dildo outside of his mouth, Harry lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, master.”

His master smiles benevolently. “Of course, my pet. Now, was there something you wanted to ask me?”

Harry nods, squirming on the machine. “Yes master. Would you please fuck me? Please master?”

“Such a good boy,” His master coos, and Harry feels good. He’s being good for his master.

His master helps him out of the machine, and positions him on all floors on the ground. He hums in consideration, while poking his finger at Harry’s sore and gaping hole. “My pet, how would you feel if we stopped using the fucking machine? I think you’ve learned how to take multiple cocks at once by now.”

Harry nods eagerly, “Yes master! I would like that.”

His master pushes his finger inside Harry’s hole and Harry squirms. “Hm, alright, I have an idea. How about we stop using the machine, if you hold still while I fist you? How does that sound, my little whore? My whole fist up your gaping hole?”

Harry hesitates, his relief waning. His whole first? Harry’s used to the size of the dildo, which is around the same thickness and length as his master’s cock. His fist would be much wider.

But… if it only happened once, wouldn’t that be better than constantly being on the machine?

Harry gives a small nod. “Okay, master,” he agrees.

His master tuts. “Beg for me to fist you,” he demands as he swirls his single finger inside Harry’s arsehole.

“Please fist me,” Harry says immediately.

His master chuckles. “Such a sweet little pet. Didn’t take much to break you did it?”

Harry isn’t sure what he means, but doesn’t have much time to think about it before a second finger is added to his hole. He gasps at the intrusion, while his master thrusts the fingers in and out of Harry’s hole. He separates them in a V to spread Harry further before adding a third finger. It’s too soon and the stretch hurts a lot, but Harry just grunts through it. His master shoves all three fingers in together, fucking them into Harry’s muscle.

He adds a fourth, his pinky, and spreads them out. Harry is whining from the pain, his mind beyond worrying about what kind of sounds he’s making. No other thoughts beyond the stretch in his arse.

Then his master shoves his hand in deeper, and his thumb begins to inch inside as well. Harry pants and grunts as his master shoves his hand inside further until it passes the joint at the widest part. His master continues shoving his hand inside until Harry’s arsehole is clenched around his wrist.

“Look at your greedy hole, it swallowed my hand whole.”

Harry blushes as he imagines how it must look from his master’s perspective, his arm shoved inside Harry’s greedy hole.

Then his master begins to fuck Harry with his fist. Harry, not prepared for the feeling, tenses, which only makes his hole tighter.

“Relax, pet,” his master murmurs, and Harry lets himself relax. It does make it easier for his master to fuck him now that he relaxed his muscles. His master continues fucking him with his fist for several minutes. It felt like someone was punching his insides, but his master consistently pressed into Harry’s prostate, making Harry’s cock swell up.

With the constant pressure on his prostate, Harry was soon panting in pleasure, until he orgasms without his cock even being touched. As he crests, he cries out, “Master!”

His master immediately removes the fist from Harry’s arse. Harry winces as it passes by the widest point, but after that it slips from his gaping hold easily enough.

“You’re being such a good pet for me today,” his master says. “So I’m going to reward you one more time. How would you like to sleep on a real bed?”

Harry blinks, still caught in post-coital fogginess. “You mean you’d bring me a mattress?”

His master scoffs. “No, my pet. I would give you your own bedroom.”

Harry’s mouth opens, confused. Even the Dursley’s didn’t give him his own room until they had to, and they were family. Now Voldemort himself was offering Harry a room? There must be some kind of catch.

“What do I have to do for it?” he asks slowly. Maybe it would be something else awful, like he would be in the same room as Voldemort and he would have to warm the older man’s cock in his arse all night while they slept.

Voldemort laughs. “Harry, it’s a gift. You don’t have to do anything for it. I simply wish to reward you for your good behavior.”

Harry swallows. Good behavior. He meant that Harry stopped fighting and started doing whatever Voldemort wanted. Harry felt sick. Had he really stopped fighting already?

Harry bites his lip. But was he supposed to turn down the offer of additional comfort? After so long camping in the forest with Hermione and Ron, and then being kept in all kinds of awful positions in the cell, Harry longed for a proper bed.

“Okay,” he says hesitantly. Then a belated, “Thank you, master.”

His master smiles at him, then takes his cock out of his robes. “You can thank me by sucking my cock.”

Harry swallows. Of course there was a hidden price. Still, Harry had been sucking his masters cock daily the entire time he’s been here. It wasn’t the worst thing to do in order to get the bedroom. He licks his lips and opens his mouth obediently.

His master chuckles. “Look at you, all eager." He steps forward and uses his hand to guide his cock into Harry’s mouth. Harry swallows around it, then begins to suck. He swirls his tongue around the shaft, but then his master grabs a hold of Harry’s hair and tugs him forward, choking him on his cock. He thrusts forward a couple times before relaxing his grip. Harry breathes through his nose, and then the cock is thrust deep into his throat once more.

This continues on for a few minutes before his master takes his cock out and quickly rubs at it until he’s coming directly on Harry’s face. Harry closes his eyes, but knows better than to turn away. Instead he just takes it as cum is spurted over his eyelids, on his cheek and nose, and into his still open mouth. He dutifully swallows the cum that landed in his mouth.

“You look divine,” his master says, placing a hand on Harry’s cheek, and Harry bites back a small smile.

His master steps away and puts his cock away. Then with a flick of his wand, he creates a collar and a leash.

He shows Harry the collar, which contains a tag. On one side it says “whore” and on the other side it says, “Property of the Dark Lord.”

Harry doesn’t protest as his master clicks the collar on around his neck. Then he connects the leash to the collar.

He waves a wand and Harry’s chains are removed, so he is only restrained by the collar and leash, though he’s still on all fours. Then he opens the door to the cell and starts to walk out, tugging at the leash to encourage Harry to move.

Harry begins to stand up, but his master sends a cutting curse across his arm, and Harry immediately drops to the floor, looking up at his master with wide eyes.

“Good boys crawl,” his master says.

Harry hangs his head. “I’m sorry master,” he says.

His master tugs once more on the leash, and Harry shuffles forward on his hands and knees in an awkward crawl.

His master is patient with him, even as it takes a long time for them to walk all the way to the exit to the dungeons. Harry struggles to get up the steps, but eventually manages it.

As they approach the door, Harry begins to hear faint conversations. Of course. There are other people here. Harry had been so isolated by only his master and Draco, that he forgot there would be other people in the rest of the manor.

His master opens the door, and Harry shuffles out, blinking at the bright light, after spending so much time in the dark.

The conversations that Harry heard all stop as the door opens, and Harry looks up and around to see maybe half a dozen death eaters staring down at him. He recognizes a few of them, Avery, Muliber, and both Lestrange brothers. But there were also a few he didn’t recognize.

Instinctively, he shuffles closer to his master, and his master pets a reassuring pat on his head. Harry feels completely exposed, even though he’s been naked since his first day here, now there are new people seeing him.

“Hello my followers,” his master says in a pleasant tone. “I would like you to meet my pet whore. Say hello, whore.”

Harry swallowed. “Hello,” he says quietly, and he hears someone snicker. Ashamed, Harry hangs his head.

“I was just going to show my pet to his new bedroom. Carry on.”

His master tugs at the leash and Harry crawls forward once more.

He hears someone whistle in the room behind them. “Look at that gaping arse! Can't wait 'till we get to fuck it.”

Harry swallows, and glances up at his master, who smirks at him.

His master leads him around the manor, introducing him to everyone they see on the way. Harry realizes at one point that they've circled around the rooms, so he realizes his master is just showing him off to all his followers.

And then Harry sees it. A door to outside. He knows it goes outside because theres a small window on the door that shows greenery. Harry didn't realize how much he missed the outdoors until this moment.

He thinks if he runs fast enough, he might startle his master enough to drop the leash, and then if Harry can just reach the door quickly, he could escape outside and then run far enough away to escape the wards so he can apparate.

Tensing up, Harry solidifies his plan. This could be his only chance, he's not sure when he'll be allowed out of his bedroom.

He waits for the perfect moment - his master walks slightly closer to the door then stops to talk to someone.

While he's distracted, Harry yanks the leash away from his master. To his delight, his master loses his grip on the leash and it comes falling down. Not wanting to waste another second, he turns and sprints for the door. As soon as his hand is on the doorknob, he hears a voice call out “Stupify!” And suddenly he's frozen in place.

His master approaches slowly. He asks. “You didn't think you'd escape, did you?”

Harry can't reply, frozen as he is standing with his back to the room. No one else says anything, but Harry knows there are others in the room, watching.

“Have I not punished you enough, is that the issue?” His master continues. Then, “Crucio!”

All he feels is pain. Harry wants to tremble, wants to curl into a ball and cry, but he can't move as the vicious pain shoots through him.

It only lasts for half a minute before his master stops it.

“You're just a little pain slut, aren't you my pet?” His master continues. “After all, you did come untouched when I had my whole fist up your tight arse.”

Harry hears a few snickers, and then he feels a finger prod at his pained hole. “Do you need me to fuck you more, pet? Is that the issue?” His master sighs as if this is a bother to him. “Well, I suppose I can fuck you right here, if that's what you want.”

Excited chitters come from the other death eaters in the room. Harry can't even turn around to see if he recognizes anyone, as he’s stuck in place. He thinks maybe it’s better that way.

His master does not wait long before moving away his finger and lining up his cock. He easily pushes his way inside Harry's loose hole, and doesn't stop for a second before thrusting once more.

As he fucks Harry's prone form, his master calls out to his followers. “There will be no touching yet, but if you'd like, you can cum on him,” he declares.

Harry wishes he could fight, wishes he could push against Voldemort's hold so he wouldn't be forced to stand still as a bunch of death eaters shot their cum on him.

Yet still they stepped forward eagerly, pulling out their cocks, all while Voldemort thrust fast and hard into Harry's hole. Harry is unable to do anything but take it.

And take it he did, as the first person spilt their load on his side. Then another person with admittedly good aim spilt their load over his cock and balls. It kept going, there were more people in the room than Harry originally thought, or else more people came in to get a load off on the Chosen One. Cum was dripping down his side, stomach and legs.

His master pushes Harry's leg over to get a better angle and suddenly he's thrusting against Harry's prostate.

He starts to thrust harder and faster, and Harry can feel his own orgasm swelling, but before it can crest, his master pulls out and sprays his seed all over Harry's arse.

Then his master snaps his fingers and there are large ropes binding Harry's hands together. His master then picks up the leash once more and then releases Harry from the stupify spell, and Harry jolts away from him. His master tugs tightly on the leash, not giving Harry any wiggle room.

His master taps his foot impatiently. “Well? Thank me for raping you.”

Harry stands there, so close to the door to outside, but knowing that escape was impossible at this time. He turns to face his master, and finally he sees the others in the room. They’re all leering at him, and he shivers as he feels their cum dripping down his body. Any fighting now would only get him punished further, and Harry was already exhausted. So he swallows his pride. “T-thank you for raping me,” he says quietly, and the death eaters in the room snicker at him.

His master sighs, shaking his head. “Here I was, about to reward you for good behavior, and you go and try to run away from me. Tell me pet, would you rather have your own bedroom, or go back down to the dungeon? I can start up the fucking machine again, if that’s what you want.”

“No!” Harry says. “I - I want the bedroom.”

His master smiles. “Then show me how much you want it. Get down on your knees.”

Harry only hesitates a second before quietly sinking down to his knees.

“To show us how much you want to be rewarded,” His master says, “You’re going to suck off everyone in this room.”

Harry looks at his master in alarm. There must be at least a dozen people in the room “But-”

His master shoots a cutting curse at Harry’s side. “No arguing. You choose this. Now deal with the consequences.”

Harry swallows down his complaints. At least they were only going to use his mouth, as his arse is still gapping and sore. He nods, compliant.

“Very good. Goyle, you’re up first.”

Harry startles. Was Goyle here? Had he been one of the people to cum on Harry? But it was Goyle senior who stepped up and pulled out his cock. It was shorter than his master’s, but thicker.

“Open up, whore,” Goyle senior says.

Harry opens his mouth, flattening his tongue. Goyle senior feeds Harry his cock. It tastes musty. Goyle senior thrusts forward, fucking Harry’s mouth.

“That’s right bitch. Just sit there and take it.” Goyle senior babbles. “Merlin, your mouth feels so good. I can’t wait till I get to fuck your arse though.”

Goyle senior continues thrusting as Harry gags around his cock. He thrusts once, twice, thrice more before he spills his seed in Harry’s mouth and takes his cock out of Harry’s mouth. “Swallow, bitch.”

Harry swallows the cum, the taste bitter on his tongue.

Goyle senior moves away, and another death eater takes his place. Harry keeps his mouth open and the man stuffs Harry’s mouth with his cock.

The man grips Harry’s hair tight and moves Harry’s head up and down on his cock. Harry lets his mind drift into a numb space as he’s being used.

Soon enough, the man cums down Harry’s throat.

The next person steps up, but before he sticks his cock in Harry’s open mouth, he addresses Harry’s master. “My lord,” he says. “Would it be alright if I pissed in his mouth?”

Harry looks to his master in alarm, and there are titters of laughter from around the room. His master smiles. “What a marvelous idea. You're welcome to piss on or in him, yes.”

Harry feels nothing but fear and dread. He doesn’t want this to happen, but his hands are literally tied, there’s nothing he can do.

So when the man positions his cock to enter Harry’s mouth, Harry opens his mouth to let him. Almost immediately, there’s liquid streaming out of his cock into Harry’s mouth. Harry has to swallow it so he doesn’t choke on it, so he reluctantly swallows again and again as the man’s piss streams into his mouth.

Once the man is done pissing, he sticks his cock in Harry’s mouth and demands, “Suck it.”

Harry hollows out his cheeks and sucks around the cock in his mouth as best he can. Instinctively, he also lathers the cock with his tongue, licking all over the shaft.

After a minute of this, the man thrusts deep into Harry’s throat without warning, making Harry choke. He continues thrusting, staying deep in Harry’s throat so he cannot breath. When Harry begins to worry that he’ll pass out, the man thrusts once more before cumming down Harry’s throat.

Harry coughs as the cock slips out of his lips, but he doesn’t have much time to recover before yet another cock is being shoved into his mouth.

Harry continues to pleasure the cocks with his mouth until everyone in the room has cum either in his mouth or on his face. It’s only after the last person does so that his master is satisfied.

“Very good, my pet. I believe you’ve earned your room now.”

Harry looks up at his master pathetically, lips shiny with spit and cum.

His master tugs at Harry’s collar, and Harry obediently puts his hands on the floor so he can crawl again. Crawling is made more difficult by the fact that Harry’s hands are tied together, but Harry doesn’t dare ask for his hands to be released, just struggles to move himself forward.

As his master leads him to his room, the death eaters jeer and mock him.

“What a whore, look at him shake his arse as he crawls.”

“I bet he won’t even need dinner tonight, he’s so full of our cum.”

“Merlin, do you see how much his hole is gapping? I can’t wait to get my cock in there.”

Harry feels a flush that extends all the way to his chest, but he can say nothing in his defense. He crawls along as his master tugs at his rope.

Eventually, his master leads him to a hallway, where he opens a door.

The room is grand. There’s a large king sized bed against the back wall, with dark green curtains draping down. There’s a large vanity in the room as well, and a dark brown armchair. There’s a door to the left, possibly a closet.

Harry shallows, than glances up at his master to see if this is some test. But his master just ushers him inside.

His master releases Harry's hands from the binds. "There is a potion on your bedside table. Take it before you go to sleep, or you'll regret it,” his master instructs. Then he closes the door, leaving Harry alone in his new room.

He walks around the room, inspecting every object. He checks the closet first, wondering if he’ll be allowed clothes now. But when he opens the door, all he sees is a bunch of lingerie hanging up. His mouth drops as he takes in the sexy underwear. Was he going to be expected to wear that?

He looks through the drawers on the vanity, and quickly shuts them. Each drawer contained a selection of sex toys, multiple dildos and vibrators, butt plugs, paddles and crops, nipple clamps, and other things that Harry didn’t even know the purpose of.

He decides not to dwell.

Lastly, he walks up to the door.

Locked.

“Alohomora,” he whispers.

Nothing happens.

Harry downs the potion on the bedside table, then he gets into his large bed, ducks under the covers, and cries.

Chapter Text

When Harry awakens after his first night in his own bed, he feels something gliding inside himself. Half asleep, he thinks of nothing but chasing his own pleasure, as he makes little thrusts up for more of the delicious friction.

The thing inside him moves easily through Harry's slick entrance, and Harry, used to Voldemort fucking him dry, is suddenly confused. He opens his eyes. His master’s dark eyes stare back at him with a lecherous smile on his lips.

Harry glances down and sees that his master is indeed inside Harry, but not his arsehole. Instead, what had previously been Harry's cock was now a pink slit with folds, and his master's cock is pressed into the slit. He rears back, but can’t move far. He tugs at his wrists, which are tied up by the headboard of the bed. He tugs at his feet only to realize his ankles are similarly tied, so his legs are spread wide open.

His master continues to fuck Harry's pussy. Harry almost lets out a moan, but he shakes his head. “No, stop,” he says instead.

His master narrows his eyes. He points to Harry's chest and says a wandless stinging charm.

Harry lets out a short scream as his chest stings, and his master laughs. “How many times do I have to tell you, pet? You don't say no to me.”

Harry looks down and swallows. “I'm sorry, master.”

His master gives a victorious grin and lazily thrusts his hips, his dick moving in and out of Harry's pussy.

“Yes, this is why I had you drink that potion last night. Don't you think this is a fine bit of potion work? It certainly feels like the real thing, a virgin pussy.” He laughs cruelly. “Well, not virgin anymore.”

Harry feels hot tears sting his eyes, but he blinks them back.

His master thrusts hard into Harry, and starts increasing his pace. The sound of slick slapping fills the air.

“You're so wet inside,” his master says, and Harry has to swallow back a sob. “You must really want this.”

No! Harry wants to scream. I don't! But denying will only bring more pain, so Harry stays silent, while his master thrusts repeatedly into his new pussy.

His master brings a hand down to touch where his dick is entering Harry's pussy. “Yess,” he says in a hiss as he slams inside.

Distantly, Harry recognizes that this feels better, with the slick wetness that his body is producing. Better than when his master takes Harry's dry arse.

His master continues thrusting in and out of Harry's slick pussy. “It's a temporary potion,” his master explains, keeping an even pace. “But I might just give it to you daily. This is glorious. Your pretty little cunt, full of my cock.”

Harry closes his eyes, hoping the image will go away.

“Open your eyes!” His master says. Harry's eyes snap open. “Watch. Watch as your cunt takes my cock, you filthy whore.”

Harry grits his teeth and looks down, watching as his master pulls most of the way out, wetness dripping out with the cock, and then he thrusts his way back inside.

His master starts to jackhammer into Harry, and it becomes painful even with the slick.

“I wonder what you'd look like, full with my child.”

Harry's eyes widen. “No!” He says. “You can't do that to me!” Was it even possible? Was he able to grow life, since he now had the parts for it? Harry couldn't take that chance.

But his master doesn't like to be told no. He picks up his wand and curses calmly, “Crucio.”

Harry screams as the pain overwhelms him. Even as he's torturing Harry, his master fucks up into his trembling body, stiff in pain.

His pussy must clench around his master's cock, for soon he's milking it. His master cums deep inside of Harry's pussy, letting his seed spill.

His master releases the spell after his orgasm, and Harry droops, exhausted.

His master pulls out of Harry's pussy, a string of slick connecting them for a moment before it breaks.

“Do you know why I gave you a cunt, my pet?”

Harry, panting lightly, shakes his head.

His master leans down and whispers in Harry's ear. “So that I'd have another hole to fuck. Do you understand? You are no longer a person. You're nothing but a fuckhole.”

Harry thinks of the words carved into his back. “Cum dumpster,” he says, pathetically.

His master smiles, looking almost proud. “That's right, my pet. You're a cum dumpster.”

***********

The next few days pass similarly. Harry wakes up to his master fucking his pussy. Then his master leaves to take care of “business” as he calls it. Then he comes back later, makes Harry beg to suck his cock, and then beg to fuck him up the arse.

It's not ever a choice, of course. If Harry protests, he's immediately punished.

Eventually, his master leaves for the night, and Harry drinks his potion, and then walk around the room. He'd call it exploring, but there isnt much to explore. Everyday he walks to the wardrobe, opens it to see the lingerie, shuts it. Walks to the vanity, opens the drawers to see the sex toys, shuts it. Walks to the door, tries the door. Locked. Always locked.

So it goes.

Harry wonders in his free time, when he should be sleeping to rest and recover as best he can, but he can't quite bring himself to fall asleep, knowing the horrors that the next day bring.

He wonders about the fact that his master is planning on sharing him some day, with the other death eaters. More than the blowjobs, they were going to rape him. All of them, any of the ones who wanted to. Would Draco again? He doesn't want to know.

Harry also wonders about escape. It doesn't seem possible in his current circumstances, but maybe he'd get another chance.

So after his master makes Harry beg to be fucked, and then fucks him, his master leaves once more, and Harry runs through his nighttime routine.

Opens the wardrobe. Lingerie. Closes the wardrobe.

Opens the vanity drawers. Sex toys. Closes the vanity drawers.

Tries the doorknob. Loc-

Not locked. Very much open. Harry twists the knob all the way, and pushes. It opens. He lets out a quiet gasp. He turns back to his room for the past few days, but he has no belongings, not even clothes, unless he wants to wear lingerie. No, that would be worse than being fully naked.

So Harry carefully - slowly, silently - pushes the door all the way open.

There's no one in the hallway.

He steps out, gingerly placing his foot down outside the room.

No alarm, nothing.

Is this a trap?

It doesn't matter. Harry has to take the chance he's been given. He'd rather have tried and failed than have never tried at all.

So he walks down the hallway silently, peeking around the corner. He heads to the stairs, and carefully keeps an ear out, but he hears no one.

He makes it down the stairs, and then he spots it. The door to outside. It's so close!

Harry, seeing and hearing no one, rushes to the door as quickly as he can while still being silent. Then he tries the doorknob. It's unlocked.

A trap, Harry's voice of reason says again. This is too good to be true.

But the chance at freedom is so near. Harry pulls the door open and rushes outside. He takes off running. The manor is protected by anti-apparation wards, and Harry doesn't know how far they go, so he keeps running.

That's when he hears it.

A howl. Wolves?

No.

He glances up at the sky and his terror increases.

A full moon. Not a wolf, a werewolf.

Harry increases his speed. He could stop to try and apparate, but he doesn't want to lose his momentum if the werewolf is chasing after him, and he's not sure if he's out of the anti-apparation wards yet.

As Harry's feet move fast againt the ground, he hears the werewolf again, closer.

Then the sound of the paws sprinting over the ground.

Harry needs to try and apparate. He stops abruptly, thinks of the forest dean, and turns on his heel.

Nothing.

He's still within the wards. As soon as the realization sets in, Harry runs off once more. But it's no use. He sees the wolf now, chasing him through the trees. It won't be long before -

Harry is suddenly struck, he loses his balance and falls hard on the ground. Harry's head is spinning from being thrown against the ground, but soon he realizes he's pinned back down to the ground by the werewolf.

Oh god this is the end for him. Killed by a werewolf. Well, it was better than what was happening inside at least.

The werewolf snuffles around Harry's neck. Harry looks at his eyes and realizes he recognizes them. It's not just any werewolf, it's Fenir Greyback. Harry freezes in horror. Would greyback not kill him, but bite him instead? Turning him into a werewolf would certainly be another form of torture.

But Fenir doesn't bite Harry. He licks his neck, then lifts his body up just enough to turn Harry over so his stomach is facing the ground. “Wha-” Harry starts.

Then Fenir brings his clawed hands down into Harry's back, and Harry lets out a pained gasp as he tears into the skin.

And then there's something poking at Harry's arse.

Harry jerks away, eyes widening as he realizes he's not going to be killed or turned by Fenir.

He's going to be raped by the werewolf.

He struggles under Fenir's grasp, pushing against his hold to try and get away.

Fenir growls and digs his claws deep into Harry's side and Harry screams in pain.

He stops struggling. “I'm sorry” he says in a gasp. “Im sorry, but please don't!”

Fenir does not listen. Once he's certain Harry is done struggling, he relaxes his grip enough to poke his cock at Harry's arse again.

His aim isn't great, so the red hot cock slips down Harry's perineum a few times before it catches on Harry's hole.

Harry tries to relax his muscles as much as he can, to make it easier, but the werewolf cock is so big, Harry feels like he's going to be torn apart.

Fenir thrusts inside in one movement, and Harry screams as the monster cock tears his inner walls. Harry's blood serves as lubricant when Fenir continues thrusting into Harry's arse. He sets a violent pace, thrusting fast and deep until Harry is crying from the pain. Harry's tears fall onto the forest ground.

Harry feels entirely too full as Fenir's cock is stuffed inside him. Then a node on Fenir's dick knocks against the outside of Harry's arsehole.

Harry startles, but Fenir just keeps thrusting, trying to force the node on his cock inside of Harry.

“Stop, no, it won't fit,” Harry protests, squirming, but Fenir just holds him down tighter and presses the node inside.

His knot, Harry realizes belatedly. He's knotting me.

Fenir thrusts a few times more before letting out a howl as he spills his seed inside of Harry. He keeps thrusting while semen continues streaming out of his cock. Eventually, the knot runs out of semen. Harry tries to pull away, get the huge knot out of his arse, but the knot glues them together. The werewolf seems docile in this post coital moment. If Harry could get out of the knot he would try to push off the werewolf and flee, but instead he's attached to his attacker.

After a few minutes the knot goes down, and Fenir tears himself out of Harry's sore arsehole.

Finally, Harry can breathe again.

Then Fenir's cock pokes at Harry's arse again, lower. It pokes at Harry's folds, trying to find his vagina.

“No, no, no” Harry protests, “Please don't, not again.”

But Fenir does not stop, he continues thrusting his cock up at Harry's pussy until he catches on the hole. He pushes inside the wet hole with a squelch, then immediately begins thrusting once more.

He thrusts brutally into Harry's wet pussy, his huge cock tearing at his pussy's walls. His claws, clutching on to Harry's shoulders to keep him pinned, tear into Harry's skin.

Harry sobs as the werewolf fucks into him harshly, thrust after thrust. He lasts longer this time, minutes pass with nothing but the sounds of Harry's sobs, and the repetitive squelching and pounding as Fenir wrecks his hole. Finally, the knot begins to knock against his lower lips, and after a few thrusts, it pushes inside. The thickness fills Harry up, and he can't help but moan at the feeling. Fenir thrusts a few times with the knot inside him before spilling his seed into Harry's cunt. He keeps coming, everytime Harry thinks it's done there's another spurt. He continues with a few shallow thrusts before coming to a stop.

Like before, the knot takes a few minutes to deflate inside Harry, and they lay together there, intimately locked together.

Harry relaxes slightly, hoping his punishment will be over now that Fenir's used both of his holes.

But then Fenir, still inside Harry, starts lazily thrusting once more, his softened cock twitching.

Harry squirms at this. “No, please, not again,” he says through tears, trying to escape from the werewolf's hold. But Fenir's claws tighten their grip, and the pain makes Harry gasp out. Fenir's muzzle brushes against Harry's neck, and his teeth tease the skin.

Harry stays very still, the threat of the Bite paralyzing him. Fenir fucks into his prone body.

It continues all night. Both holes, different positions, Fenir maneuvers Harry around to fuck him harder, get deeper inside. He fucks Harry while Harry's on his back a few times, and even has Harry suck his cock one time.

Harry is spent and exhausted when the morning comes, covered in blood, sweat, tears, but mostly cum. Cum dripping out of his pussy and arse, cum on his arse, on his back, and all over his face. He even has the bitter taste of cum in his mouth.

Exhausted as he is, he doesn't even move a muscle when Fenir transforms back into his human form while on top of Harry.

Fenir, now with his human cock, thrusts inside Harry's used arsehole with a groan. “God, I loved knotting your holes, like you're my own little fucktoy.” Fenir continues talking as he thrusts repeatedly into Harry's hole. “How'd you like that, being my personal pair of holes? God I wish. Too bad the Dark Lord would never hand you over. But I'll take what I can get.

And take he does, as he takes Harry apart, thrusting hard inside of him and raping one final time.

“I'm gonna breed your arse,” he snarls, thrusting harder. “Gonna fill you with my pups.”

After thrusting once, twice, thrice more, he cums inside of Harry and pulls out, letting his cum dripping out of Harry's hole. Harry stays still, unable to move a single limb.

Eventually, Fenir drags Harry back inside the manor, and throws him to the floor in front of his master.

His master stands before him and tsks. “You need to understand, my pet. Escape is not an option.”

Harry, exhausted, can't reply.

His master sighs. “Take him to his room. It seems he's already had enough punishment.”

Harry is carried to his room and placed onto his bed. He falls asleep, still coated in Fenir's cum.

Chapter Text

The day after being brutally and repeatedly raped by a werewolf, Harry Potter is led by collar and leash into a large room filled with death eaters. They stare eagerly at the naked boy, as he is forced to crawl into the room.

His master shushes the rumbling voices of his followers. “I know you have all been waiting eagerly for news of Harry Potter. And I am here today to say he is no more.”

There's confused muttered at this, until his masters tugs at his collar. “Tell them my pet, what's your name?”

Harry closes his eyes. He knows what the right answer is, knows that he's not strong enough to give the wrong answer anymore. “W-whore,” he says. There's laughter and leering throughout the room at this.

“That's right,” says his master, almost proudly. To his followers, he says, “Now watch this, he'll do anything I tell him to do.” He turns back to Harry. His master turns to Harry and pulls a vial out of his cloak. “Take this and drink the potion,” he orders.

Harry eyes the vial nervously. It could be anything, it could be poison to kill him, or a potion that brought a lot of pain.

But Harry didn't have any choice. He reaches out a hand and takes the vial, quickly pulling out the stopper and downing the bitter liquid.

There's no change at first, and Harry is almost disappointed. He had been hoping for death. But then there's a heat in his groin, and a haziness in his mind. His hips buck of their own accord.

“N-no” Harry protests, but it's too late, his cock starts to stand upright in a stiff erection, and he continues bucking his hips, attempting to find friction.

“Yes,” says his master. “A lust potion.” Eager chattering blazes throughout the room, and people shift to get a closer look at the boy.

Harry’s mind turns into a buzzing sense of energy, and he can focus on only one thing. Pleasure. He pushes back his knees so he falls against the floor and begins to hump the floor.

His master tugs at the leash, and Harry whines. “Enough of that,” his master says. Then, with a wave of his hand, he uses magic to create a pillory. With only slight prodding and promises of pleasure, Harry sits his head and hands in the pillory, so he's stuck bent over with his arse out, and his head at cock level. His master closes the restraint and locks it, so Harry is stuck in place.

Harry bucks his hips as the lust potion causes another wave of heat to flush over him. “Please,” he says, turning to the death eaters watching him hungrily. He wiggles his arse in the air. “Please fuck me,” he begs.

“You heard the whore,” his master says and steps off to the side. “Consider this his bitching.”

Immediately the robed wizards rushed forward and begin touching Harry all over. Someone spanks his arse, while others run their hands over Harry's sides and back. Someone sticks two fingers inside of Harry's mouth, and he obediently sucks on them. The person chuckles and then pulls out his fingers. He opens his robes and pulls out his cock, and promptly sticks it inside Harry's mouth.

He begins thrusting inside Harry's throat, making him choke. As he thrusts, someone fingers around Harry's arsehole, then pushes a dry finger inside. Harry pushes back into the feeling. Then someone presses two fingers to Harry's wet folds, searching for his cunt. The pressure feels so good, Harry lets out a choked moan around the cock in his mouth.

As his mouth is being fucked, the finger in his arse is replaced with a cock, and Harry moans again as the cock thrusts into him, so good, Merlin, he feels complete, as if his hole was just waiting for something to fill it.

Then the cock in his mouth is pulling out. “Keep your mouth open, bitch,” says the man in front of him, and then he sprays Harry's face with his seed, getting it in Harry's open mouth, along with all over his cheeks, lips, and chin. Harry licks his lips. The man in front of him chuckles. “He's an eager little whore, isn't he?”

Harry's mouth is open, panting for breath as he's fucked from behind by an unknown death eater. The fingers searching finally find Harry's pussy hole, and press inside the wet heat. Harry moans.

Someone else is quick to push away the man who came on Harry's face, and take his place, pushing his cock in between Harry's open lips. “Yeah, take it bitch,” he sneers.

Harry swirls his tongue over the cock in his mouth even as he pushes his arse back into the cock thrusting into him. It's suddenly all too much, and Harry stiffens as he orgasms. The cocks spitroasting him don't slow down, and continue thrusting into him as he stutters out an orgasm, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

The fingers in his pussy are replaced by a cock, and suddenly there are three cocks fucking into him. Harry's vision nearly whites out from pleasure. The cock in his arse thrusts deep inside once, twice more before cumming, spilling seed deep inside Harry. The man pulls out immediately, but it's only a few seconds before another is taking its place.

Harry gets lost in the pleasure, as the death eaters keep rotating through his holes. Some of the death eaters take their time, fucking him slow and choking him with their cocks, while others fucked him hard and fast.

For the most part, he can't tell who's fucking him, especially those fucking his arse and pussy. Sometimes there's a familiar face in front of him, like when he recognizes Draco Malfoy once more. Draco gives him a pitying look before he thrusts his cock down Harry's throat.

Another time, he recognizes Fenir Greyback's thick dick pounding into him, as he taunts Harry with phrases like “Bet you love this, whore,” after Harry moans around the cock in his mouth when Fenir hits his prostate, and “Yeah, take my cock, you filthy little slut.” It's combined with hard spanks across his arse as Fenir pounds into his arse, as well as scratches across his back.

He wasn't the only one spanking and scratching, Harry was constantly being smacked and prodded and scratched at. There's also cum all over his arse, face, and the rest of his body two, as people keep spilling their seed on him.

Someone takes his hand, still locked in the pillory, and brings it to their cock while Harry is being spitroasted, and he instinctively begins to stroke it. His other hand is quickly filled with his another cock, and Harry is forced to use both hands to stroke the cocks while someone thrusts into his arse, someone else thrusts into his pussy, and another person thrusts down his throat. He chokes on the cock in his mouth, and the person choking him grabs his hair tight and pulls, making Harry whine. “Yeah, take it, whore,” the man says.

Time moves slowly as Harry is repeatedly raped by every death eater. He's sure he must have had every single death eater rape all of his holes at this point, but still they continue, thrusting and cumming on and inside him. And still Harry continues to beg for more any time his mouth is open long enough.

Each time a death eater pulls out of his holes, cum drips down his body, and onto the floor.

After Harry is sure every death eater has used him twice, they bring out the big guns.

The creatures.

Part-trolls that split his arsehole in half with their massive cocks and relentless pounding. The first part troll that stuffed his cock inside Harry's arsehole made him scream, even around the cock in his mouth.

There were also vampires and more werewolves, who's inhumane precision in hitting Harry's prostate caused him to cum repeatedly.

There are also goblins, with their pointed dicks, short but thick. They pounded Harry's holes over and over again, grunting through their thrusts.

The worst were the centaurs, who put their front legs on top of the pillory to shove their animalistic cocks inside Harry's cunt, one after the other.

Eventually, somehow, everyone is satiated, and Harry flops down in the pillory, exhausted as they all pull out of his holes, cum dripping to the ground. He breathes in deeply, then coughs. The lust potion has worn off, leaving humiliation, pain, and exhaustion in it's wake.

Then his master approaches him. “What's my name?” His master quizzes.

“Master,” Harry says, voice thick from his sore throat.

“What's your name?”

“Whore.”

“Good. And what are you?”

Tears flood Harry's eyes but he blinks them away. “Cum dumpster,” he says in a whisper.

“Beg for me to fuck you,” his master demands.

Harry lets out a sob, even as he gives in. “Please,” he sobs. “Please fuck me, master.”

“Good boy,” approves his master, before pulling out his own cock and walking behind Harry. He spanks Harry's reddened arse once, twice for good measure, and Harry tries to jerk away, but his restraint and his master's hands keep him in place.

He pushes inside in one thrust, his cock easily slipping inside Harry's cum filled pussy. Harry lets out a breath of surprise, then clamps his mouth shut.

His master pulls out almost to the tip and then thrusts back inside. He picks up speed quickly and soon enough he's pistoning into Harry's cunt as Harry gasps in pain, repeating “Ah, ah, ah.”

“You're nothing but a cocksleeve for me and my followers. Do you understand my pet?” His master says, even as he pounds Harry's cunt.

Only the sound of skin slapping against skin is heard for a moment. Then Harry says in a shaky voice, “Yes, master.”

His master shoves in hard, his hips meeting Harry's arse. He pulls almost all the way out before shoving inside again, making Harry gasp out loud in pain.

Then he shifts his hips, and the next time he thrusts into Harry, he hits his prostate directly. A moment of pleasure sweeps over Harry before the pain and shame overcame him. His master continues at a brutal pace, and Harry weeps as pain and pleasure war in his body.

He lasts long, he's always had good endurance, but eventually, he slams once, twice, thrice more into Harry's cunt before releasing his seed deep inside Harry.

His master only takes a few seconds after his orgasm to gather himself and pulls out of Harry's cunt, letting cum drip to the floor. He tucks himself away.

“Thank you all for participating,” his master announces to the room full of satiated death eaters, while Harry slumps down in the pillory, closing his eyes, exhausted. “A few things will be changing now, after the whore’s bitching. He will now be available for full time use.”

Harry's eyes fly open. He wants to protest, wants to ask what this means, but he doesn't want to get in trouble, so he stays quiet. He looks around the room though, at all the death eaters. They look hungry again, like they could all go another few rounds.

“This means during the day the whore will be here in this room, tied up and available for use. And at night, while he sleeps in his bed, feel free to slip in with him. The only rule is that he's not allowed to be empty ever again.” The death eaters all laugh in excitement, saying lewd things to Harry.

Harry sucks in a breath. His bedroom used to feel safe, but now even that fake sentiment will fade away. He'll never be safe again. He'll be raped, constantly, by a group of heinous people.

His master waves a hand, and the pillory disappears. Harry, his muscles stiff and unable to support him, falls to the ground. His master waves his hand again and ropes tie themselves around his ankles and wrists.

“Maybe one day I'll bring him out on business,” his master muses. “The wizarding world should see what's become of their savior. Nothing more than a cum dumpster for our amusement. Ah well. For now, someone have at him.” His master waves a hand at Harry.

Multiple people move forward, and then Harry's torture truly begins.