Corvus Fallere Book II Chapter 8 part 5
Chapters 1-7 are here.
"Drink, boy," he said, and held the cup near my lips. I sipped at the wine, wondering if I was testing it for poison. It tasted fine, if a bit rich for my empty stomach.
Voldemort glanced down at me over the carved arm of the chair. I didn't look up; I hadn't been given permission to do so. His reptilian face was harder to read than the others I had been with. I couldn't quite tell if he was intrigued or annoyed. Hm. I'd have to elicit some kind of response, in order to know how to proceed. He touched my head again, and I rubbed up a little. Hell, I had done it once, and it hadn't killed me. If I kept this on my terms, kept him guessing, perhaps I could control the night.
His fingers stilled, and then slid deep into my hair, gripping it tight. I swallowed my gasp.
He tipped my head back, staring down into my face. I tried to keep it composed, but the grip he had in my hair was tight, and it hurt. And I couldn't stop the flush that the pain brought to my cheeks. His eyes were flat, not round, and it made my skin twitch. His thin, lipless mouth tilted into what I think was a smile, and he let go of my hair suddenly and pushed my head down so I was looking at the ground again.
Next to me, I could see Malfoy shifting in his chair. As much as I hated Voldemort, Malfoy just made me angry. With my head down, I could indulge in a facial expression, and let a glare come out.
"Seems that my new pet doesn't like you, Lucius."
"I'm not surprised. One, he never has. Two, I watched Snape strip him of what little magic he had. And three, none of your pets like me." Malfoy sighed and gestured with his cane. "Nagini in particular, I believe."
"Is that true, my love?" Voldemort hissed. "Would you like to see Lucius gone?"
Something under Voldemort's chair shifted. "Gone? No. Devoured, perhaps." Nagini slid out into the light, a snake as big around as his thigh, all pale stripes and speckled scales. She lifted her head, her tongue flickering. "And here is the boy, hmm? Smells odd... old and dull." She moved closer, and I didn't dare shift away. Her blunt nose touched me under the chin, and I shivered as her tongue flickered along my skin.
Voldemort saw me shiver.
"Don't you like her, boy? She is beautiful, deadly, powerful. It's been a long time since you've seen her. She's grown, hasn't she?" He stroked a pale finger down her back, and she shifted into the touch, her head moving hypnotically. Voldemort's eyes were very much like hers, I thought, watching the head move.
"Yes, don't you like me?" she said, and flickered her tongue out again against my face. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Voldemort had asked me a direct question, but hadn't given me permission to speak. I settled for nodding faintly, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy both of them.
"So you are still a Parselmouth," Voldemort said, switching back to English, and I hadn't realized that he had been speaking in Parseltongue until that moment. I glanced up at him; he was sitting with his head propped on his hand, looking down at me. It was a very human gesture.
He looked like he wanted me to speak, but he still hadn't given me permission. I shrugged with one shoulder.
"Has Snape robbed you of your tongue, little Parselmouth?" I shook my head, dropping my eyes again.
"My Lord, you have to give him permission to speak."
Voldemort looked up at Malfoy. "He has them trained that well?"
Malfoy nodded. "All the ones I've ever sampled are stubbornly silent unless you give them direct permission to speak. In fact, they're trained so well that it can be... frustrating."
Voldemort looked down at me, his eyes narrowing. "Is that so? Perhaps we should leave this party early. I find the dancing boring."
My heart thudded.
Malfoy looked perturbed. "Hystrix is just about to start his show, my Lord."
Voldemort yawned. "It'll be the same thing he does every year. Flay the skin off a screaming wretch, and then force them to service someone. It's not as if it is a new show." He reached down and ran his fingernails along the back of my neck. I shivered as gooseflesh came up. "Now, this... this is a novelty."
Malfoy looked like he had been sipping lemon juice instead of wine. "As you wish, my Lord."
Voldemort rested his hand on the back of my neck. It was dry, and very warm. I could feel the tips of his nails prickling against my skin. "Stand."
I rose to my feet, keeping my head bowed. His hand rested on my neck the whole time. I realized, as I stood, that he wasn't that much taller than me anymore.
Nagini twined around my feet, and she felt huge. I hoped that I wouldn't be required to carry her.
Snape appeared at my elbow. "Is there a problem, my Lord?"
"Your little catamite is ... more interesting than I thought, Severus. I would like to retire for the evening."
I could feel Snape's gaze on me. "Of course, my lord. Let me get you a guide."
Voldemort's voice was soft, creeping. "This castle was broke benith my hand, Severus. There is no place here that I do not know. You remember, surely?" Snape nodded shortly, looking paler. "Which is my suite?"
"You are in the third floor, green, my lord."
"I'm assuming you've already installed one of your servitors there."
"Yes, my lord."
"Good. You will be informed if I have need of anything else."
"Yes, my lord."
Voldemort pushed me in front of him, and I could see people in the room turn to watch us go. On the stage, someone was pushing a struggling man onto over to a whipping post. He looked like a Hufflepuff I used to know. Perhaps an older brother. I could see his scars from here, and was rather grateful that I was leaving, even with Voldemort.
The double doors opened for us, swinging slowly on their hinges. The music faded as they thudded shut behind us. Up sets of stairs and down hallways, the presence of Voldemort steady behind me. I saw no one else.
We stopped before a dark wooden door, and it swung open at a touch.
The carpet was green and thick, and my toes sank into it. I could see my footprints as Voldemort pushed me into the room. Other footprints dotted the room. My neck felt very cold when he pulled his hand away to close the door. The click of the latch was loud, and there was a crackle of magic. I vaguely remembered the door spell from the big holding room, long ago, and knew I was trapped.
Just a normal customer, I though. Just like every day. I can do this.
His hand slid across my back, touching the edges of the tattoo on my spine.
"Is Lucius correct? Will you only speak if I give you permission?"
I nodded, my eyes glued to the green carpet. Dark green, like leaves in shadow....
"Interesting." He trailed the back of his hand up my spine. I could feel each knuckle as it bumped on the knobs of my spine. I shivered.
"So responsive. Severus has trained you well. But what to do with you?"
I had no answer to that, and so I stood there. My toes curled around the carpet, clutching and letting go.
Voldemort reached the top of my spine and paused, his fingers tapping against my neck. "Hmmm, I wonder..." and before I could think, he raked his nails down my back.
I gasped, arching, as the pain pulsed up my spine. My hands clutched at nothing, and I bowed my head, trying to get my breathing under control.My back burned.
"Oh, yes," Voldemort said, coming around to stand in front of me. He put one finger under my chin, tipping my head back. "I thought so. That's not anger on your face, boy. Not by a long shot." The finger moved up, brushing my bangs off my forehead. He tapped the scar there with his nail, then scored it lightly down my cheek, close to my eye. "What an interesting development. Were you like this before? Or did Severus do this to you? Perhaps living with those Mudbloods gave you a taste for filth."
I could smell him again, dust and dry and sweet. I was on unsteady ground. I didn't know what to do. I breathed out hard as his nails drew down my throat, and my eyes slid shut despite myself.His nails were very sharp, and I could feel a sticky trail forming on my back. I wondered if Voldemore was exempt from the no damage rule. Probably. His other hand slid up my ribs, flat fingertips catching on the ridges of my new tattoo. He rubbed a finger across the scabs, and the sting made me twitch my shoulder.
And that was an order, firm and hard, and I did it, without question. He traced my tattoo, all the little feathers, and scratched new lines into me. I could feel beads of blood welling. I didn't move.
His fingers wandered down my chest to my nipples. He rubbed his thumbs over them, and they stiffened further. He made a pleased sound.
"Doesn't it shame you, boy, that it is I doing this to you? Where is your spirit? I thought you would have tried ten times to kill me by now."
I had no answer for him.
He didn't seem to expect one, anyway.
"Over to the bed, boy."
I went, my footsteps silent. The air cooled the sweat I hadn't felt until that moment. I stood by the bed, waiting for further instructions.
"Sit on the edge."
I did so, keeping my eyes anywhere but on his face.
He put his wand and my contract on the round table by the bed. The scroll rolled to rest next to a water-beaded goblet. I could see drops of water soaking into the parchment. He stood in front of me, his fingers rubbing at his robe. I heard a faint wet sound. His hand came up to cup the back of my neck again."So good, so obedient. Had I known this, boy, I would have taken you before. So pleasant not to fight, isn't it? Just be a good little slave and you won't have to fight ever again."
I stared at my knees.
"Suck me," he said, and my mind shut down, just went blank. I reached for his robe with numb fingers, watched distantly as I undid the buttons and smoothed the cloth open. He was wearing silk trousers under his robe, and this reminded me so much of Snape that it was suddenly much easier. This was just a client, nothing more, and I could do this.
He was hard in his trousers, and I trailed my fingers over him, rubbing the edges of his cock. He was shaped oddly. His hand on my neck pulled me forward, and I took a deep breath, my nose filled with the dry sweet smell of him. I leaned forward, letting my cheek rest on his hip, my lips just touching the silk of his trousers with my lips. He shifted, his cock coming to rest just against my lips. I breathed out, forcing warm air though the cloth. He moaned a bit. I turned my head, letting my lips explore his contours. He wasn't overly large, as I had half expected. There was something odd about the head of his cock, though, and I lingered there, tonguing him softly, trying to work out what it was. The silk clung to my tongue, and I let more wetness gather, smoothing the silk onto his cock, painting spit along his length. I could faintly taste him, musk and dust and blood iron. His hand clenched on the back of my neck, and the other pushed past my cheek, working his pants open. I pulled back.
His cock, still half trapped in the wet silk, was the color of bloodless flesh. I caught the silk in my teeth, pulling it away from him. His cock slid against my cheek, freed at last.
I could see now what my tongue had felt. The head of his cock was covered in soft looking spines, all laying down. I glanced up at him. His face was expressionless.
"Suck me, boy." And I did, letting my mouth hang open. His cock slid across my cheek and across my lips, and I closed my mouth around the tip.
On my tongue, the spines flared briefly before laying down again. His hand on my neck slid into my hair, and I sucked lightly at him, letting him slide a bit farther into my mouth. He pulled at my hair, and I opened my mouth wider, letting him slide deeper. His other hand worked into my hair, and he pushed harder. I sucked hard at him once, feeling the spines flare again, and then took a deep breath and relaxed completely, letting him control my head.
He gave a surprised grunt as his pushing suddenly slid him all the way in, and I felt his hairless groin press against my lips. He filled my throat. My eyes watered a bit, but I didn't move. I could hold my breath for a minute, maybe more. I would wait him out.
He held me there for a long time, just pressing steadily into my mouth, his hands kneading my hair softly. Just as my lungs started to ache, he pulled back, and I sucked in a lungful of air around him. He hissed as the air cooled his cock.
[Epp! when I edited this, it ate the cut. I'm sorry!]
Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4 * Part 5 * Part 6 * Part 7 * Part 8 * Part 9 * Part 10