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What's a Dark Lord To Do?

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Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


“Lucius, do these robes make me look fat?” The Dark Lord Voldemort stood twirling in front of an antique mirror. He’d started feeling unloved as his Death Eaters were wooed over to the Light with promises of unlimited aphrodisiacs and classes in sexual gratification for the older witch or wizard.

The eldest Malfoy rolled his opalescent grey eyes before he answered, “Why, no. Why would you think that, My Lord?” The cloying sweetness of his lie almost stuck in his throat as he surveyed the red-eyed, scaly git he currently served. Granted, he had a schlong the most endowed donkey would envy, with just the cutest little twist to the left, but really! His obsession with his clothes was getting ridiculous; just yesterday, he Crucio’d the best designer in Paris for missing some stitches on the inside of his winter cloak!

“My Lord, will we be discussing the attack on Hogwarts anytime soon?” Lucius kept his eyes down and his voice respectful, but, he knew he was skating on thin ice. At least, he would have been if Tom Riddle wasn’t feeling insecure.

In a swirl of robes learned from Severus Snape—before he defected to the Light to boink like a bunny with the half-giant, Hagrid—Voldemort turned toward his last trusted lieutenant, Lucius Malfoy. Coming a stop just a couple of feet from him, the darkest wizard on the face of the planet looked the blonde bombshell up and down for several minutes. Stepping around the pureblood, he trailed talon-tipped fingers over broad shoulders and a bubble butt.

“I think I need a break from world domination, Luc.” He didn’t miss the wince on Lucius’ face at the nickname. “Oh, live with it! It’s not like you have some messy-haired brunet with a very disfiguring scar and big spectacles thwarting your plans all the time and running around calling you ‘Moldy Voldie’!” whined the being that would be despot.

Sighing deeply, Lucius turned around and swept the shorter evil being into his stalwart arms. “There, there, Dark Lord. I’m certain that the defectors will realize that sex is not the end all and be all of their existence soon,” he whispered in the crusty ear below his aristocratic lips. Even falling apart—physically and emotionally—he couldn’t turn from the best fuck-buddy he’d had since Severus. There was just so much potential there!

Tom cuddled into the strong chest under his cheek, and took a deep whiff. Lucius always smelled of citrus and sandalwood. “You smell divine, my white snake…” rumbled from Voldemort into Lucius’ chest. Lucius could feel the long dong of his leader stiffening against his leg; maybe this time he’d get that trouser python inside himself?

“My Lord, I would gladly take your mind off of the distasteful idiots that ran towards the Light’s sex hand-outs…” the begging tone of voice was soothing to Voldemort’s frazzled nerves.

“Mmm…I like your thinking, Luc. Just for that, I’ll fuck you into the mattress while you scream every fantasy you’ve ever had about me.” The most evil of dark wizards waved his hand, causing their clothes to vanish, including the robes that started it all. “How would you like me to take you, you luscious hunk of wicked manhood?”

Lucius’ temperature was rising as fast as his prick. “Any way you want, Master…” he hissed out as those talented talons lightly scratched through his pubic hair. He liked that razor-thin pain/tickle that came from the nervous twitches Voldemort experienced from some strange curse that hadn’t been fully dissipated as his fingers carded through the white blonde short and curlies. Oh, how could anyone be coherent with that meat cleaver coming at them?

“Hmm…I think you need to pay homage to my lusty organ with that talented tongue of yours,” smirked Voldemort. “Ooh yess…” hissed the Dark Lord as his lieutenant hoovered him into the back of his throat. Damn! That milky-white snake had the suction of a dozen vacuums!

After several minutes and a few bars of Hail Britannia hummed at full-force, Tom let loose and practically drowned Lucius, who by the way was not complaining in word or deed. When he’d been milked dry, the slinky blonde let the flaccid phallus slide from his grinning mouth. “Guess I’ll have to get you to attention for me again, eh?” he mumbled into the scaly stomach heaving under his lips.

“You get me hard while I think of ways to look thinner in my battle-robes,” agreed Voldemort. Barely noticing Lucius steering him back toward the now pillow-covered dais, the Dark Lord closed his slitted eyes and gave himself over to his lieutenant’s horny ministrations.

Half an hour later, Lucius found himself on his knees worshipping his master in another way as he was excruciatingly, slowly impaled by the massive member of the one, the only, Voldemort. He could feel his tonsils getting pushed and pulled with each stroke, and he loved it. It was at times like this he realized he didn’t want Tom to take over the wizarding world, only Lucius Malfoy’s world. “Ooo…ride me, Master!” he cried, over and over.

With a great heave, shove, and stroke, Tom Riddle finished his ride on the Malfoy Express and came with a shout. As an afterthought, he reached around and scratched his talons across Lucius’ balls, pushing him over the edge and drawing a keening wail of ‘yesss’ from that pureblood throat.

Several hours and positions later, Lucius realized that Nagini was no longer in the room. Lord Voldemort was draped over the scattered pillows on the dias, arse in the air, with a note spell-o-taped to it. Lucius read it, once, twice, and then chortled to himself. “Oh, Tom, you might want to wake up…” he cooed into his ear.

“Wah…gah…Forgot to brush my fangs…” mumbled the once dreaded dark wizard. “Why’d you wake me up? I was just dreaming Nagini was strangling Potter!” he groused.

“Tom, we lost…Here, let me read the note to you:

Dear Tom and Luc,

You looked so cute all tangled together, we didn’t have the heart to wake you as we siphoned off your magic. You’ll find you can only do first or second year magic, but nothing more complex. At least, you’ll be able to do the simple lubrication spells.

Oh, Draco says ‘Hi ya, Pops!’ and you should see how pregnancy looks so good on him! Sirius is very happy he came back from behind the Veil into those Slytherin Seeker’s arms of Draco’s.

And, Nagini asked for passage to South America, she’d heard of a killer Anaconda who really got her hormones in an uproar, so we sent her on her merry way, after she promised to never help another dark lord again.

Now, Harry and I know just how hard it will be for you to find work as a former dark wizard and evil mastermind, so we’ll spot you a reference when you finally get over your loss.

See you when we see you!


Remus and Harry Potter

Tom Riddle, less red-eyed and scaly, looked up at his former lieutenant and wondered out loud how he could make it in the world now. “Lucius, what’s a dark lord to do without dark magic?”

Lucius took one look at his adamantine organum stiffening as the seconds ticked by and told him not to worry about it, he’d been a spy and had socked away a pretty galleon in kick-backs; they were set for life. All Tom had to do was keep him happy, and he could have his dark plots all over Malfoy Manor!

Tossing the note aside, Tom nodded and attached his lips and blunted fangs to that milky white neck. When the Aurors stopped by to check on them, most of them had to be revived or obliviated, they’d never expected to see grown men humping like bunnies on a pile of Death Eater robes. All while the pink-eyed one called out robe measurements!

~~~ Finis ~~~


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