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Victor and Victims

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Victor and Victims

Today was another Victory party and Draco couldn’t wait for it to happen. Since the Dark Lord had won the Battle of Hogwarts and enslaved the remaining insurgents, these parties were the highlights of his existence. They made things bearable.

Torturing Muggles and Mudbloods lost its appeal after a while, though aunt Bellatrix still couldn’t get enough. When one didn't do anything without dark magic, it wasn’t that enticing to learn more about its most uncommon practices.

At least not when compared to seeing the Golden Trio used as mindless fuck toys commanded by the Dark Lord and cheered on by any Death Eater who wanted to. And Draco wanted to. He was greedy to watch. He even got half-hard thinking about last month’s party, where the Weasel had been forced to rim Potter until the Boy-who-was-fucked-now nearly blissed out from the mixture of humiliation and arousal. And then the Mudblood had taken Weasley’s cock up her arse slowly and sensually to fulfil the Dark Lord’s wish– such a wonderful type of mortification. Yes, Draco couldn’t wait to witness the new crack chipping their armour of starry-eyed idealism.


The room was decorated in gold and black tonight with an enormous gyratory bed in its middle. The bed was – as befitting pornish cliches – round, plush and velvety. It would have been ludicrous, but palpable excitement thrummed through the room. The Dark Lord’s most trusted Death Eaters were invited, including most of his family. His father was already positioned next to the vacant throne of their Master. His aunt had draped herself on a chaise longue next to the bed, planning to comment on the trio’s actions en détail as she always did. Her husband Rodolphus stood nearby and was currently engaged in a conversation with his younger brother Rabastan. Rakish Rababstan, who had given him a spectacular blow-job on the morning of his 16th birthday to distract him from the more hurtful things to come.

The only missing person was his mother. Draco knew she stayed at home because it made her sick to see anyone his age forced into being a sex slave. A flicker of apprehension crept through his mind, but Draco shook it off. When the Dark Lord wanted his most precious captives to be put on display, it happened. When he lusted after his toys, he took them. If Draco wished for a minute to join one, or better, all of them, it was one of his darker secrets, one that he didn’t plan to share. He checked his Occlumency shields once more to keep it that way, when a gong chimed and the winged doors opposite the throne slowly opened.

Draco bowed his head like every male in the room while the women curtseyed. The Dark Lord drifted into the room, so that everyone could take in his appearance. He wore black robes with golden embroidery and held a golden chain in his left hand. Potter, Granger and Weasley tripped after him, each wearing golden handcuffs, fetters and a collar, all linked to the main chain like charms to a bracelet.

They were naked except for the golden glitter covering their bodies. All three had rosy cheeks and dilated pupils which was due to the Lust Potion they had been forced to drink earlier. As were the hard-ons Potter and Weasley had. Draco knew the effects by now. Both men didn’t try to hide their erect cocks because it would only provoke the waiting Death Eaters to torment them more.

Draco took a closer look. Potter was the only one holding his head high, though his eyes didn’t look as blazing as they once had. Granger and Weasley were studying their own feet while their arms brushed. They seemed to be in dire need of comfort. Draco would have laughed, had he dared. There was no such thing as comfort in the presence of the Dark Lord.


Granger and Potter were the first pairing in today’s party. Draco didn’t know what was more torturous; for Weasley to watch his girlfriend being shagged by his best friend, or for Potter and Granger to be forced to fool around with each other before Weasley’s eyes. But the Lust Potion did its work, and they were unable to fight of their need for sex and release.

Kneeling before the rotating bed, the Weasel fisted his long cock with its pink head in one hand, clearly intending to stay hard and ready to take the place of whomever came first. He was spurred on by bellowed obscenities from Macnair and Crabbe senior, while Bellatrix – as the Dark Lord’s most tenacious perpetrator – inserted a spiralled wooden plug into his hole. His aunt was careful enough not to damage one of the Dark Lord’s assets, but it was definitely painful as the glint of perspiration on Weasley’s face and his rigid posture attested.

Meanwhile Potter had stopped licking and fingering Granger’s folds because their Master had demanded that they shagged doggy style. It was Draco’s favourite position for those two. Granger wasn’t able to hide behind her hair– it was always pulled into a ponytail. He watched her biting her bottom lip bloody in the fruitless attempt to fight the threatening waves of arousal.

Of course she wanted to last longer. To get at least some time with her boyfriend, even if it was before everyone’s eyes. Draco could see that she’d never told Potter about her wishes. So this failure-of-a-saviour still tried to spare her further humiliation. And as they all knew their bodies by now, Potter fucked her from behind like a virtuoso would play his violin. Draco saw her legs and arms tremble until realisation hit her and a mixture of despair, anger, and relief boiled up in the brown eyes. It was removed when the shuddering bliss of an orgasm crushed through her body and her eyelids closed.

Draco couldn’t suppress a smirk when he saw Weasley crawling towards Potter. As if on cue, his dick grew half-hard in his trousers. Draco loved that pairing and he would never get tired of seeing them together. They always tried to get on with their mating in a hurry, but the Dark Lord would have none of it. He stopped them before they had really started and summoned two transparent poles with dangling manacles. Then he levitated Potter into position and told Weasley to open him up with his tongue. On his knees Weasley shuffled towards Potter’s arse, spread his cheeks and dove into the task without hesitation.


Draco didn’t know whom he envied more, Potter or Weasley. They didn’t love each other like that, but they were best friends. And Draco could think of worse than being forced to have sex with a friend. He saw how careful Weasley’s big hands held Potter open and knew for now that they didn’t need a Concealing Charm to hide their bruises the next morning.

Of course the Dark Lord didn’t let them get away so easily. He raised Potters arms until he was hanging in the air, his arms bearing his full weight, until Weasley stumbled to his feet and grabbed for Potter’s thighs, who in return twined his legs around Weasley’s hips. That was the position their Master wanted and he demanded from them to start fucking.

And of course they did. When Weasley’s cock breached Potter’s arse both moaned, and Draco started to feel hot in his immaculate robes. He watched Weasley picking up the pace, fucking Potter good and proper until his rhythm stuttered and his orgasm hit him full force. Weasley held on to Potter to catch his breath before he sank to his knees again to fulfil another order.

Draco saw that they even locked gazes for a split second before Weasley tried to swallow Potter’s cock down. No surprise that he didn’t succeed because Weasley wasn’t a very skilled cocksucker. A fact that still stunned Draco and probably everyone who ever had seen him stuffing his mouth full of food. Gobbling food down like a wolf and overcoming one’s gag reflex had to be two different things then.

Weasley made up his lacking skills with enthusiasm and much licking, and soon enough Potter was on the brink too. A shiver ran down Draco’s spine and he wished again to be in their shoes. And then Potter thrashed around in his bonds and spilled his load into Weasley’s mouth, who tried not to drop the creamy liquid. Like Draco, he probably remembered the one occasion when Bellatrix had licked it off his skin holding a dagger to his throat.

Finally, poles and manacles vanished and both men collapsed onto the bed. Granger, who had lain low during their act, crawled between their crouching figures and Weasley reached for her hand. A moment later she grabbed for Potter’s with her other hand.

Even fucked up they were still a trio, Draco thought while his focus vanished.


“Draco, my boy,” he heard the Dark Lord calling.

He swallowed down the rising bile, turned away from the bed, still rotating with three exhausted forms lying close together, and walked over to the throne. His father didn’t meet his eyes as didn’t anybody else when he crossed the room.

The Dark Lord followed Draco’s progress, taking in his black robes with silver embroidery. He was pleased.

“My Lord,” he said when he reached the throne and bowed his head to the imposing dark figure.

“It’s time.”

Shielding his brain with as much strength as possible Draco met the cold scarlet eyes and nodded.

The Dark Lord picked up a hidden goblet, left his throne and closed the distance between them. He raised the goblet to Draco’s lips. “Drink!”

Draco drank. He closed his eyes for a moment. The dreadful warmth of the Potion rushed from his stomach through his veins. His face flushed and his cock swelled. Draco took a deep breath and steeled himself for the things to come.

He had no friends to share his fate.