Chapter Text
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JKR, not me. No money being made.
When Harry woke up, he had to blink his eyes a few times to make sure he'd actually opened them. He couldn't see a thing, and he wasn't sure whether this was because he'd been blinded or because it was just pitch black in the room. Someone had manacled his hands together above his head, probably to a chain hanging from the roof by the clinking sounds produced when he tried to move his hands.
His heart started to pound. He didn't know where he was or what was going to happen to him. He couldn't even remember how he'd been caught. One fact remained clear: he'd been captured, and he had no idea what his captors would do to him. Fortunately, he knew from reports that his enemy was reluctant to use Veritaserum, apparently because it took all the fun out of torture.
Someone had undressed him. He could feel cool air blowing from somewhere. Fortunately they appeared to have left him some degree of modesty - he could feel something around his waist. He wondered whether calling for help would be any use, but before he could make a sound, he heard a door open and close.
Footsteps approached Harry. He judged, from the lack of echo, that he was in a very small room, and the floor was probably made of wooden boards. The person approaching him was a man, with bare feet. Harry almost shrieked when suddenly he felt someone touch his side and run their hand up his back.
"Harry Potter. I have to say, I'm glad I asked for this. I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I will."
Harry knew that voice. The sarcastic drawl was unmistakeable.
"Malfoy?" He tried to sound confident, commanding, but it came out distinctly squeaky.
"Yes?"
"Have you blinded me?"
Malfoy chuckled.
"Considering how thick your glasses are, that wouldn't be difficult. But no, I haven't blinded you. Close your eyes."
Harry dutifully did so, and the room lit up with a red flare. When he opened his eyes again the light was normal, and Malfoy was standing a couple of feet away. Harry looked around. As he'd thought, the room was quite small. The only furniture was an easy chair off to the side. He looked up, and saw that he was indeed chained to the roof. When he looked down, though, he got a bit of a shock. He'd thought there must be a towel or something around his waist. It was most definitely not a towel. It was a pleated black miniskirt, indecently short, and apparently made of satin. Then Harry looked at Malfoy and his heart almost stopped.
His interrogator was wearing nothing but skin tight white leather trousers, and was holding a small whip. Suddenly Harry remembered why people rescued from the Death Eaters were always a bit reluctant to tell the Order what had happened to them.
They were raped, Harry's subconscious screamed in alarm. And now you're going to get the same treatment.
Malfoy pulled the chair over so it was in front of Harry, and flopped down into it. He toyed with the small whip and stared at Harry until Harry felt he should probably say something.
"I won't talk, you know."
"Okay."
Hmm. That wasn't supposed to happen.
"Look, I know all about this sexual torture you guys do. I've been trained to resist."
"That's okay too." Malfoy smiled. Harry felt even more nervous.
"Why am I wearing a skirt?"
"Because I asked for it."
"Did you ask for me to be tied like this too?"
"Of course."
"Why did they send you?"
"Harry, Harry. I'm supposed to be the interrogator here. I'll answer that question, but then it's time to start. They sent me because I asked to be sent, because I know you. I know you're a happily married man, and I know you're a raging homophobe. If you were gay, they've probably would have sent Aunt Bella. Whatever makes the, ah, subject more uncomfortable." Malfoy stood up and walked over to Harry, flicking the whip lightly against his leg.
"I know you hate me, Harry. Passionately. That's what will make what I'm going to do to you that much worse." The last words were hissed into Harry's ear.
"What are you going to do?"
"Sorry Harry, you've used up your last question. Let's get started, shall we?"
Malfoy reached a hand around behind Harry and lightly stroked his bare ass before giving it a slap. Harry winced and closed his eyes. But the expected follow up didn't come, and when he opened his eyes again, Malfoy was sitting back in the chair looking at him.
"That skirt is so short I can see the head of your cock," he whispered. Harry blushed violently but didn't respond. Malfoy smiled slightly. Harry closed his eyes again.
After a couple of minutes, he wondered what on earth was going on. Malfoy had barely touched him. When was he going to shove his cock in his ass and rape him until he gave up the information? He opened his eyes again, and was a little shocked at the display in front of him.
Malfoy was lightly tweaking and squeezing his nipples, his tongue between his teeth. Harry blinked and gaped, watching as his interrogator teased and aroused himself, and he felt himself blush even more when Malfoy unzipped his trousers with one hand and pulled out his semi-hard cock. It seemed he wasn't wearing underwear. Malfoy stood up and shimmied gracefully out of his trousers, bending over to give Harry a good look at his ass.
To his horror, Harry found himself thinking what a nice ass it was. He mentally slapped himself and tried to look away, but he was riveted. Malfoy flung himself back in the chair and spread his legs, putting one over each arm of the chair, displaying himself wantonly to Harry. He put one hand behind his head, and with the other, started slowly stroking his erection with one slender finger.
Harry's lip curled in disgust. He realised exactly what Malfoy was going to do to him. He wasn't just going to rape him, oh no. He was going to do his utmost to make Harry enjoy it. That's why no rescued Order members wanted to talk about what was done to them in detail. They were all ashamed, because they had enjoyed it. Harry's chest tightened with fear. Then, in shock, he felt his cock twitch.
Ignore it, he told himself. Look away from Malfoy. But he couldn't. Either Malfoy had set some charm on himself which made it impossible to look elsewhere, or he was just too riveted. Harry decided it had to be the former. He hoped Malfoy was too busy with himself to notice Harry's growing erection. No such luck.
"You're getting hard, Potter. Does the sight of another man wanking turn you on so much?"
Harry shook his head violently in denial, but there wasn't much he could say to that.
"If you tell me what I want to know, I'll stop right now without even touching you," Malfoy whispered, his hand still caressing his cock, one-fingered. His other hand moved to a nipple and squeezed gently. Harry's cock jumped again.
"I can cope with humiliation, Malfoy. What do you think it was like for me at school with you for seven years?"
Malfoy grinned. "Oh, you have no idea what else I can do to you, Potter." He licked his fingers and went back to playing with his nipple, and wrapped his entire hand around his cock. He leaned his head back against the chair and he started moaning softly.
Through all of this, Malfoy's eyes hadn't left Harry. His gaze pierced him to the bone, but Harry wasn't looking at Malfoy's eyes. He was staring at the hand circling his cock, watching Malfoy squeeze and rub himself firmly. It was quite interesting if one ignored the nasty side of it. Malfoy's cock was slightly longer and thinner than Harry's, and the red colour was a stark contrast to the rest of his skin. He was also clearly a natural blond.
Suddenly Malfoy was out of the seat and walking towards Harry, holding his erection like it was a weapon. To Harry, it was. Malfoy stood about a foot in front of him, still rubbing his erection, and looked Harry up and down.
"You know, you're actually pretty hot, Potter. Just think of all those years we were at Hogwart's together, and I didn't bother getting to know this side of you. Pity you had to go off with that Chang girl. We could have had some good times."
Malfoy paused, and looked down. Harry blushed to the roots of his hair, and Malfoy grinned.
"Now that looks just obscene. Deliciously obscene."
Harry looked down too. His erection had grown so much that it pushed the pointless skirt out of the way, and he might as well have been completely naked. Malfoy licked one finger and delicately touched the head of Harry's cock, which obligingly leaped upwards. Harry tried not to cry.
"I love seeing you hard, Potter," Malfoy whispered in his ear. Harry cringed when Malfoy's breath sent tingles all through him. "I love seeing your hard cock, straining to be touched, loving every little bit of attention I give it. It likes being looked at, did you know that? Does it do that when Chang looks at it, Harry? Does Chang know how incredibly dirty you look in a skirt?" He licked Harry's earlobe then bit down gently, and Harry let out a strangled gasp.
"Shut up, Malfoy. Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
"Relax, Potter... this won't hurt a bit."
And Malfoy kissed him.
Harry could no more resist that than he could resist going hard. He kept his mouth firmly closed, refusing to give in to the persistent tongue pushing against his lips. His head was leaning as far back as it could, and Harry's neck started to hurt from the strain. Then Malfoy's tongue was delicately running along Harry's lower lip, not trying to force his mouth open anymore, and Harry's devious, underhand body started to enjoy it. The little nibbles, the gentle tongue strokes... for an instant, Harry's lips relaxed, and Malfoy's tongue shot inside him, quick as lightning.
Bite his tongue, bite his tongue! Harry's mind screamed. That would be a good way to get rid of him, but suddenly Harry didn't want to get rid of Malfoy. He was, quite frankly, the best kisser Harry had ever encountered. The way he threaded his tongue through Harry's, the way he gently probed the inside of Harry's mouth, the way he tasted every part of him.
Then the tables turned, and it was Harry kissing Malfoy. He couldn't help it. His tongue was in Malfoy's mouth, doing the same things Malfoy had done to him. His cock was straining now, leaking fluids, and Harry took a tiny step forward so his body pressed against Malfoy's. But Malfoy took a step back, breaking the kiss, breaking all contact, and pinning Harry with his gaze.
Harry, gasping for air after what was quite probably the best kiss he'd ever had, was mortified. So much for holding out under pressure. He hated himself, hated his stupid body for the way it reacted without his permission, hated Malfoy for making his body react like that, hated the Order for not giving him enough training to cope with this, hating Cho for not having such delectable lips as Malfoy...
He started to cry. Malfoy looked concerned for about two seconds, then flopped back down in his chair to watch. He spread his legs again, hooking them over the arms of the chair, and went back to stroking his cock while Harry recovered from his moment of weakness. He felt incredibly ashamed - not only had Malfoy made him as horny as hell, he'd made him cry.
"What are you going to do now?" he asked quietly.
"Why, Potter, I'm going to make you come harder than you've ever come in your life, and then, just when you think you couldn't be more humiliated, I'm going to fuck you." Malfoy's eyes had an unpleasant glint in them, and Harry's heart seemed to stop.
"Let's get started, shall we?"