Chapter Text
October 1982
The bell rang, an incongruous cheerful tinkling sound, as Severus Snape walked through the door of the dingy little Knockturn Alley potions shop. The proprietor’s head popped up from behind the counter at the noise and his eyes narrowed as he saw who had just come in.
“Snape,” he said, giving him an oily smile which did not reach his eyes. “I’d wondered if you were ever going to crawl out from whatever rock you’ve been hiding yourself under since the Dark Lord vanished. Finally come to settle up, have you?”
Severus drew himself up to his full height and wrapped both cloak and as much dignity as he could muster around himself. He might only be 22, but he was still the Hogwarts Potions Master and should be spoken to with respect. It had been hard enough to earn at the school the previous year. It wouldn’t do to allow mere shopkeepers to strip any of it away. He looked down his considerable nose at the man behind the till.
“I’ve not been hiding anywhere, Jugson. As I am certain you are well aware, I’ve been at Hogwarts this last year. Exactly where Our Lord wanted me to be. And since I have never personally purchased anything from you before now, there’s nothing to settle. As it turns out, I am in need of - .”
“Ah, but you did the buying for Him. Surely you’ve not forgotten.” The frown which had settled on Jugson’s face while he had spoken, turned up again into that parody of a smile. “You signed the contracts for Him when you came to pick up the goods. Ten thousand galleons in credit I extended to Mr High-And-Mighty and look where it’s got me. But you’re here now, so we can take care of this properly.”
“I would suggest that you take it up with the Dark Lord’s estate,” said Severus, covering up his panic with a tone of voice that could freeze Fiendfyre. “His purchases are not my responsibility. I merely came in here for some fresh Belladonna essence for a Sight-Sharpening potion for the school matron, but I think I’ll be taking the school’s business elsewhere.” He turned on his heel to go.
“Oh, I think not. Petrificus totalis!”
Severus cursed long and loudly inside his head, both at Jugson and at himself for being so stupid as to turn his back on the man, as he pitched forward and hit the shop floor. His nose was really going to hurt when the spell wore off. Jugson rolled him over onto his back, grinning down at him malevolently.
“Ministry’s seized everything they could get their hands on, so there is no estate - assuming ‘Our Lord’ is actually dead. Frankly, I’m not so sure. So you are sitting pretty, having taken in the old fool, while I doubt I’ll see a single knut I’m out, even if He does come back. But, since you signed the contracts on his behalf, I am legally allowed to take it out of your hide. Oh, don’t you look at me like that. You managed to avoid Azkaban, along with that slippery sod Malfoy, but you and I both know what I’d find on your arm if I went looking for it. And seeing your name on these contracts isn’t going to win you any friends at MLE, especially considering what they’re for. You made your bed, so now you’ll lie in it.” Jugson stopped short, then stroked his chin. “Which gives me an idea about how I’m going to get my ten thousand galleons out of you.”
Severus was torn between seething rage and fear as he watched Jugson look him up and down consideringly. The images of schoolyard bullying that were chasing through his thoughts would have had him hyperventilating had he not been Petrified. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to him anymore, damn it! When he could reach his wand, Jugson would pay for this. And when he got back to the castle he was going to drag Flitwick to the duelling ring every day for the remainder of the new term, until his reflexes were so sharply honed that no one would get the better of him ever again. For now, however, all he could do was suffer through déjà vu and tell his captor with his gaze just how much he was going to regret this. Jugson shook his head as he circled Severus’s prone body.
“Accio, Snape’s wand.”
Fuck.
“You sure as hell missed out in the looks department, didn’t you, boy? Polyjuice will fix that, though. No, now that I think about it, a Glamour would be a better idea. Wouldn’t want it to wear off before all was said and done,” Jugson sneered. “Wouldn’t want the customer to get upset when they discovered what they were fucking.”
Now the rage boiled off into white, hot terror. Surely Jugson couldn’t mean what he was saying. No. No. This was not happening. He felt the bile rising and wondered briefly if he’d choke if he tried to vomit in this condition.
“I’ll make you a little deal, Snape. Next week some of the kinkier sorts at the Ministry are having a private little Samhain soiree, and Rookwood asked me to help him procure a few high class whores for a Slave Auction they’ll be having to benefit the Godric’s Hollow Memorial Fund. They’ll bid on you, see, for twelve hours of your ‘time’. Half of what they bid will go to the Fund and half will go to me. They asked for two girls and two boys, but I’ve only got the one boy right now. So, you be the other boy, and we’ll call it even. You might even have a good time. What do you say?” And with that, Jugson released him from the Petrificus. Without even thinking, he scrambled as far away from Jugson as he could, stopping only when he hit the wall.
“NO! No, I can’t -, I’ve never - !” He was hyperventilating now, and it took everything he had to get himself back under control. “No,” he said as firmly as his shaking voice would allow. “I’ll brew for you, but I won’t whore for you.”
“You couldn’t brew enough doxicide and Pepper-Up to make a dent in ten thousand galleons, even if you could do it full time for a year. No, it’s this or I call the Aurors. I know that Matthias Fenwick, in particular, would be very happy to see you again. You know his brother Benjy died in that attack on . . . hold on. What was that you said about ‘you’ve never’? Are you a virgin, Snape?”
He looked at the floor and didn’t answer, but he knew his flaming face gave him away.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jugson chortled. “You aren’t that ugly. How in Salazar’s name did you manage to spend seven years in Slytherin house and come out a virgin? That’s got to be a first.”
“That’s none of your business!” Severus said hotly, “What does it matter to you?”
Jugson rubbed his hands together with a sharp, salacious smile. “Oh, it matters a great deal. As a virgin you’ll command a much higher price. Everyone loves to be the first, you know. And we’ll do it up right, too, do the verification spell right there at the auction where everyone can see.”
“I haven’t agreed to this!”
“It’s easy to see that you’re half Muggle, Snape. Was your Da some sort of Bible thumper? Or are you just a romantic? Look, I’ll even sweeten the incentive a little: we’ll set the opening bid high enough that ain’t just nobody going to have you, and anything over the ten thousand owing will go to you. Much better than a weekend in Azkaban until Dumbledore can bail you out and an embarrassing write-up in the Prophet, don’t you think? Not to mention the tidal wave of owls the Board of Governors is going to get, demanding to know why there’s a Death Eater on staff at Hogwarts.”
“And you think they’ll be all right with having their children taught by a prostitute? You’re out of your mind, Jugson. And no, losing my virginity to some wealthy deviant was not high on my list of things I want to do.”
“I said you’d be wearing a Glamour, and I meant it. And not just because you’d be recognized. The prettier I make you, the higher the price you’ll fetch.”
“No one would pay that much for me, even if I looked like Gilderoy Lockhart,” he said weakly. “What happens if you don’t make the ten thousand? You can’t sell my virginity twice.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. The last time I did something like this for Rookwood, a 17 year old virgin boy sold for fifty thousand galleons. You are only a little older, yes?” Jugson chuckled at the astonishment he knew was written on his face. “This is for ‘charity’ after all, and those attending this little party have a good reason to be generous for this particular cause. Even if you go for only half that, I’d get my money and you’d go home with more than half of your yearly pay for a night’s fun. But if you don’t, I said before that it would be the end of your obligation if you did this, and I’ll take a wizard’s oath on it. So, are you a Hufflepuff or a Slytherin? Surely you can see the advantages in this for yourself, as well. I’ll give you a minute to think it over, Snape. Hell, take two.”
The sad thing was, he could see some advantages. It’s not like there was any reason to remain a romantic about sex. The object of his affections had left him behind long before she was murdered, and the chances of him loving again - or anyone loving him, for that matter - were so slim as to be nearly infinitesimal. And here his virginity would be considered a positive; it might even be worth enough to someone that they’d make sure he enjoyed it, too. Of course, with his luck, he’d end up with someone whose idea of a good time would be a quick public deflowering and an invitation to share. Severus shuddered. And the ‘cause’! Could there be anything more ironic? Well, if he wanted abasement for his sins, it was here in spades. James Potter would be laughing until he wet himself if he were alive to enjoy it. He refused to think of what Lily would have thought about it; it nauseated him to even think her name in connection with this.
It was obvious that Jugson was not going to let this drop, and he had Severus’s wand. Spending even one additional minute in Azkaban, followed by the public humiliation Dumbledore had been able to prevent the first time, not to mention being sacked due to the pressure that would surely follow, was a situation he was very keen to avoid. This was blackmail of the highest order, which the Slytherin in him couldn’t help but admire, even as he fervently wished it wasn’t directed at him. But, it was for one night only and surely he could manage that? His inner Slytherin would just have to take some precautions of his own, so that he could end it without penalty if he needed to. He swallowed and made up his mind.
“All right Jugson, you have a deal. But there will be a few conditions.”
*****
Augustus’s house elves had outdone themselves this evening. Guisers dressed to look like the old Celtic Deities flitted among the gaily costumed revellers, carved pumpkins and turnip lanterns floated everywhere, giving things a romantic glow, and the magical bonfires on either side of the entrance to the house recalled the old Druidic rituals without being too explicit about it. The guests were a select list of Ministry officials and their spouses. There was beauty everywhere one looked; especially if one lingered on the objects of tonight’s ‘special entertainment.’
Narcissa would never have guessed that Clive Jugson had such good taste. The rumours had been flying fast about one of them in particular, that dark-eyed, golden-haired, exotic-looking young beauty. He certainly looked uncomfortable enough to be the rumoured virgin up for auction tonight. He was dressed rather demurely compared to the other three, and he blushed prettily whenever someone ran their hands over his arse, or cupped him through the short white toga he kept trying to tug down. The others had been busy, chatting up the patrons and behaving as alluringly as possible in an effort to garner the maximum number of bidders. The boy kept his eyes down and his mouth shut, staying close to Jugson, who was behaving very protectively concerning the merchandise, never allowing more than a feel. It was all very intriguing, to be sure. It might be nice to have a new plaything for the evening. She’d have to find Lucius and see how he felt about the idea.
It stuck in her craw that the money would be going to the memorial for The Boy Who Lived’s blood traitor and Mudblood parents, but she understood the politics of the thing. After all that had come out after the Dark Lord’s disappearance, and Lucius’s narrow escape from a life term in that dreadful prison where her sister and brother-in-law were now suffering, it wouldn’t do to appear less than supportive of the Ministry’s favoured project. In truth, she was rather relieved that the Dark Lord was gone. He had been taking up more and more of Lucius’s time and energy, and she resented it. With him gone, her husband’s attention was back where it belonged: on her and their beautiful son. And it had been so long since they’d shared a pet between them. If the lovely boy at Jugson’s side did indeed turn out to be untouched, he would be just the thing. Perhaps they might even come to a more long term arrangement if things worked out satisfactorily. She smiled to herself. It was time to find Lucius and make certain he understood that she wanted the boy. It was very convenient, having a husband who would deny her nothing she desired.
She found him just outside the entrance to the ballroom, making small talk with that horrible Genevieve Parkinson. By Nimue, that woman was such a social climbing little nobody. New money was always so tedious. They might be purebloods, but they were really no better bred than those disgusting Weasleys. At least they had not proved so vulgarly fecund.
“Narcissa, darling!” The two of them exchanged the obligatory air kiss. “You are looking lovely as always. Lucrezia Borgia definitely suits you.”
“Thank you, Genevieve. You are rather charmingly dressed.” In fact, she looked as if she’d costumed herself as a dyed-pink, fancily moulded Blancmange with a black shroud. The twit adjusted her mantilla, smoothed down the outrageous explosion of ruffles which swirled about her person and affected an air of nonchalance.
“Oh, this old thing? I picked it up in Paris a few seasons ago, but I do rather love it. I thought it was perfect for Antonia Gavilán.”
Of course she did. Narcissa was just about to make Lucius’s excuses and pull him aside to chat when the frilly Pink Horror spoke again.
“Oh, Narcissa, have you seen the charming boys and girls that Augustus has procured for the auction this evening? They’re all darling, but I especially have my eye on the golden boy in the toga.” Genevieve dropped her voice. “The gossip is that he’s a virgin. Wouldn’t want him to go to someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, now would we?” the bint stage whispered, giggling like some stupid schoolgirl. Gods, it would just be insufferable if Parkinson ended up with her beautiful boy. The idea of Madam Upstart or her odiously obsequious husband laying a finger on him made her want to smack the stupid cow across her overly-painted face. But she kept her expression serene and nodded.
“Indeed,” she said, and then turned to Lucius, who was wearing a very peculiar expression. “I am sorry to interrupt your conversation my dear, but I need to speak to you in private. If you will excuse us, Genevieve?” And to the cow’s echoing ‘But of course,’ she hooked her hand firmly through Lucius’s elbow and steered him down the hall toward the entrance to the family’s rooms. When they were around the corner and out of sight, Lucius pushed her gently against the wall and looked down at her, lust gleaming in his eyes.
“And are you thinking what I think you are, my lovely bride?” he asked, slowly pressing his thigh between hers and leaning down to put his lips close to her ear. “Are you imagining that intriguing looking boy in our bed between us?” He took her earlobe in a gentle bite and swept his hands across her breasts, his thumbs flicking across her erect nipples. His own excitement was easily felt. She gasped and ground down, allowing the lovely burn to flare for a moment before stepping ever so slightly away.
“You know I am. Even before that tasteless parvenue mentioned it, I’d decided on him. That was what I’d come to tell you about.”
“Then you shall have him, my dear, and between the two of us, we’ll spoil him for anyone else.”
“Then it’s true? He is untouched?”
“It is,” Lucius answered, smiling down at her. “I asked Jugson after I saw him come into the room. He is 22 and has never had even the hint of a lover, if you can imagine that.”
“How in the world did Jugson ever get hold of such a treasure?”
“Apparently, the lad’s in debt and this is how he will pay it off. It bodes well for future encounters, don’t you think?”
“That depends on why he’s in debt, but I suppose it could,” she answered.
“Ah, my shrewd Narcissa. You are quite right. We’ll have to do a bit more investigation before we offer any arrangements, but I have my hopes. He has quite the delectable arse,” said Lucius with a smirk.
She smirked right back and lightly slapped his arm. “Don’t be vulgar, Lucius. Besides, that’s not the part which interests me in the least.”
“Oh he’s quite well formed in that area as well, based on the glimpse I got.” Lucius bent down to whisper in her ear again. “He’s completely bare-arsed under that lovely little toga, which is why he keeps trying to pull it down. Maybe we’ll ask him to leave it on while we have him. What do you think?”
Heat flared through her with such force she had to close her eyes. When she opened them, Lucius was drinking her in with eyes whose gray was nearly eclipsed by wide-blown pupils. She shivered and ran her hands between his legs, her thumbs stoking up his very visible erection. His breath came in quick pants, as if he was trying to keep control.
“I think that’s a brilliant idea, my love.” She gave him a little squeeze and he groaned. “But then you always have the most wickedly wonderful notions. Let’s go take our place in the ballroom so we’ll be close at hand when auction begins and afterward, we can celebrate the start of the New Year in the most delicious way possible.”
She still had her hands between his legs as he bent to kiss her roughly. Her fingers slid down, sliding under his bollocks and stroking behind them to where he was most sensitive. He stopped kissing her as he muffled his moan against her hair.
“I do hope we can offer the boy more than one opportunity to join us. I do so like to watch you coming with a lovely long cock in your arse.”
Lucius pushed away from her with a gasp and looked down at her in a way that told her he was on the ragged edge - just where she liked him. He swallowed and shook his head. “If you don’t stop that Narcissa, I’ll spend in my pants, and then where will we be, hmm? As it is, we’ll have to wait until my condition isn’t quite so obvious before joining our friends. I wouldn’t want them getting the idea that we’re desperate - it will drive the price for his services up considerably. He’s going to be an expensive toy, so I want more than one use of him in the twelve hours we’ll have him. I’m close enough to thirty that twice in a night is all I can manage without potions, so have some pity, my darling.”
“Very well,” she said demurely, looking up at him through her lashes. “We can talk about politics or the school board or recalcitrant house elves until you are thoroughly wilted.”
He laughed, throwing his head back and baring that lovely neck of his. She resisted the urge to lunge forward for a bite. “Those would do the trick,” he said. He smiled down at her. “You are wicked woman, Narcissa Malfoy and I am utterly besotted with you. Let us join the others now and wait for the evening’s entertainment to begin.”
*****
Severus caught a glimpse of himself in an ornate mirror as he followed closely behind Jugson. He felt like a lone rabbit in a room with a hundred hawks, predator’s eyes glowing covetously at him everywhere he looked. It was a frightening and a heady feeling, the force of the desire directed at him from every corner of the room. Of course, if anyone knew who was actually under the Glamour, he had no doubt that most of that would vanish without a trace. But there might still be a few who would value his body, if not his face or mind. The idea that anyone would want him at all in that way was an amazement. Even Jugson had leered at him as they’d finished preparing him.
He looked as if he’d stepped straight from a Renaissance painting. His skin a glowed a soft golden olive, his long burnished gold hair curled gently down his back, his face could have belonged to a Botticelli angel. It had taken him a solid three days of spellcraft to make the Glamour Jugson had come up with unbreakable by Finite. He’d look this way for 36 hours. They’d kept his height and boyish body, though Jugson denuded him entirely of his body hair. People like to see what they are buying, he had said, but it felt . . . odd. Odd and more than bare somehow, especially since he wore nothing under the all too short toga Jugson had insisted that he wear. He was grateful when he saw the other three, who were wearing hardly anything at all. It was obvious that they were professionals, and he found himself in the very strange position of envying them. They flirted and danced, allowing the patrons a lot more than small, superficial touches and leaving just when desire was roused.
He on the other hand, stayed as closed to Jugson as possible, willing himself to forget as he walked that he could feel his genitals swinging freely with every step, trying hard not to shy away as some of the more bold guests ran their hands over him, though he couldn’t stop himself from blushing. He knew many of these people and so he kept his eyes on the floor. And not just because Glamours cannot change one’s eyes and it was remotely possible that someone might recognize him that way, but because looking at them all and wondering exactly who he would end up with was almost unbearable. He felt like such a coward and a prude and at the same time he’d been half hard since he’d slipped on the toga. He doubted that the others, with their open ways, felt as exposed and shamed and, well, stimulated as he did. He was playing a part in a way, yes, but he wasn’t going to have to feign aphrodesia tonight. It was more likely that he’d come before he’d barely been touched.
And now the auction was about to begin, and he felt as if he might be sick. Jugson led the four of them to the dais which had been conjured in the ballroom for this express purpose. He knew he was trembling enough that it was visible to the gathered bidders, and he prayed to whatever gods might be listening that he’d end up with someone who would be kind. Augustus Rookwood cast a Sonorus charm and began to speak to the assembled guests.
“Welcome, everyone, to Rookwood Hall! I hope that all of you are enjoying your evening.” There were murmurs of assent through the crowd. “And, just before the New Year of our ancestors rings in, we have our Charity Auction, to raise money to complete the Memorial to the Potter Family in Godric’s Hollow. I have great hopes that we will raise all of the necessary funds to finish the project, especially when you hear what our auctioneer, Clive Jugson, has on offer for you tonight. Clive?”
Jugson stepped up to the front, casting his own Sonorus. “My dear ladies and gentlemen, we have an extraordinary collection for you tonight, but before we begin our auction, let me explain to you how this will work. I am holding in my hands four collars, each representing one of our lovely boys or girls. Each collar is charmed to last for exactly 12 hours, and for that time, the winning bidder will have the services of the girl or boy they have won. Also charmed into the collar is the list of acts that each has agreed to. Any act beyond those agreed upon, any brutality or misuse, turns the collar into a portkey and the slave will no longer be available to you.” Jugson set each collar to hovering in front of him, and then touched each with his wand. The lists appeared in wand-writing over each one. “Read carefully and know what you are buying, ladies and gentleman, as there can be no refunds. The auction will begin with our handsome and very experienced submissive Rudolfo in ten minutes, bidding to begin at 5,000 galleons.”
Talking broke out among the group as they read the lists and he blushed again. His appeared very short next to the others and he knew that would reduce what he went for, but he was frightened enough as it was without having to worry that he’d be brutalized or forced to do something which disgusted him. Since the debt was paid no matter what he sold for, it didn’t matter to him how much that was.
He watched in wonder as ‘Rudolfo’ was called forward and his list was read - which apparently encompassed everything it was possible to do and maybe a few things that weren’t - and his virtues extolled. The bidding started immediately and proceeded hotly, until the gavel finally banged at 45,000 galleons. Severus gasped at the name of the winning bidder. Walden MacNair had won Rudolfo. Where in Merlin’s name had MacNair amassed 45,000 galleons to spend for 12 hours of a whore’s time? He gaped as Rudolfo knelt before his temporary master while Jugson charmed the collar bearing MacNair’s name around his neck and set the release spell for 12 hours hence. MacNair leaned down to say something and the boy nodded. With a flick of his wand, MacNair vanished what little his slave was wearing. Rudolfo spread his knees displaying his erection to the applause of the crowd. With another flick of MacNair’s wand, the leather thong which had been holding back Rudolfo’s hair loosed itself and snaked down his body, wrapping around the boy’s cock and between his balls. Rudolfo threw his head back as MacNair ran his hands everywhere over his newly acquired prize and pulled him to his feet.
“Time to go, slave.”
The pop of Apparition was accompanied by cheers and laughter and it seemed that many in the crowd were touching themselves and those near them in ways they would normally have never dared to do in the company of others. Severus could smell the arousal in the air and his own cock throbbed in anticipation at the same time his stomach seemed determined to flip itself inside out.
Would he be expected to behave as Rudolfo had? The idea was terrifying and at the same time it made him feel perversely aroused. He was suddenly acutely aware of how on display he already was; the toga surely hid nothing from the people below the front of the dais and even the ones farther back could see that he was tenting it a little. The idea of people looking at him nearly naked and lusting after him made it rise even farther. It was Samhain, and this was a costume of sorts, wasn’t it? So no one would know, would they, if he fell willingly into the character of being an obedient slave, forced to do all sorts of lewd, licentious things? It would be ‘Tiberius’ doing them, not Severus Snape. He could submit, give up control - even dignity, if the right person won his collar. And no one could mock or scorn Severus, call him weak, passive, depraved or anyone’s lapdog for wanting just to try this, could they? He was hidden. Safe. And if it was too much to handle or it started to go wrong, he would be wearing his escape.
“All right, everyone - next up is our beautiful Ashlynn and again our bidding starts at 5000 galleons. Quiet down now, while I read her list.”
And she was beautiful, too, with softly glowing dark skin, full red lips and eyes that could melt you from across the room. Her long legs and full breasts were praised and she turned around to display her firm, high bum, winking over her shoulder as Jugson catalogued her assets. When the bidding ceased at 38,000 galleons, it was Gilbert Wimpole and his wife who stepped up to claim her. Unlike the ostentatious show put on by MacNair, they simply wrapped their arms around Ashlynn after the collar was charmed in place and Apparated away.
Much more quickly than he thought possible, black-haired, blue-eyed Morgan, whose list was almost as short as his own, was won for 35,000 galleons by Amelia Bones. Apparently the Bones fortune was larger than he’d thought. He’d been surprised to see her there, but after she had spoken to all of them privately to ascertain their active consent, her duty was done and it seemed she had no compunction at joining the party. She, too, simply embraced her prize and Apparated away to enjoy her in private.
And now . . . now it was his turn. He heard the swell of noise from the crowd as he stepped forward, feeling oddly as if he were floating somewhat detached from his body. Jugson raised the level of his Sonorus and spoke over the chatter, but he hardly heard him over the pounding of his heart. He forced himself to stay rooted, eyes to the floor, when all he wanted to do was turn and run.
“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is who you have all been waiting for. Young Tiberius here has never known either man or woman and he is offering himself to whichever of you is prepared to be the highest bidder. He has consented to having the Virginus Intacta charm performed on him in your presence, so that you may see with your own eyes what you are being offered.”
He stood completely still as Jugson spoke the incantation and the spell cocooned and invaded him. He wondered briefly what his grandfather Prince would have thought of the use to which he had put his name and tried to distract himself from the acute awareness of his exposure by recounting to himself the history of the spell that was testing him now, long ago used to staff pagan temples with both male and female virgin acolytes. He almost giggled - giggled - at the thought that in a short while he’d never again be eligible for such duty. In moment, he felt it: the magic rushing up through his body, bursting through the pores of his skin in beams of intense bright white light. The crowd gasped and shielded their eyes, but he forced his to stay open. He had passed the test, as he knew he would. Purus. At least as far as sex went. And now everyone knew and he was never more glad for the Glamour which hid him from those predatory eyes.
“He’s a beauty, isn’t he?”
Severus almost snorted at that, but kept his eyes on the floor as his list was read. It was so quotidian when compared to the others, consenting to oral, anal and vaginal sex, a little bit of light bondage and not much else. No intentionally inflicted pain or humiliation, no just about everything that was on Rudolfo’s consent list. He hoped that his inexperience might be considered endearing, until he heard Jugson finish with “And our bidding tonight will start at 20,000 galleons. Who will begin?”
He waited for the sound of outrage to resound from the hall, but it never came. Instead, to his amazement, Jugson’s audacity was paying off. In less than five minutes, it was over. The final figure and the names of the winners buckled his legs in shock.
“Sold for 105,000 galleons to Lord and Lady Malfoy.”
*****
The boy was theirs! And it was worth every sickle to watch the disappointment and resentment on Genevieve Parkinson’s face as she and her husband withdrew from the bidding after they’d raised it to their final price. A little extravagant, perhaps, but her own fortune could have paid for the boy twenty times over, and Lucius’s was greater still. And now their names would head the list of benefactors and that delicious boy would be spending the next twelve hours learning how to please and be pleased, and perhaps, preparing for a more permanent role in the Malfoy household. She took Lucius’s arm and they strolled to the dais to claim their winnings, revelling in the looks of awe and envy from their fellow guests.
The boy had fallen to his knees at the sound of the gavel and there he remained, trembling and unable to look at them, while Jugson charmed the collar around his neck. Was he really so afraid? Lucius settled a hand on his shoulder and he shivered. What in Nimue’s name did he think sex was all about, to cause him such terror? She hunkered low beside him and called his name softly.
“Yes, Lady?”
He had a faint accent, Italian perhaps, and his voice was lower than his slight frame and hairless body would make one expect. Narcissa slipped a finger under his chin and lifted, looking into his very dark brown eyes, open wide with trepidation. There was something faintly familiar about that look, but she couldn’t place it. No matter. She smiled at him with all of the dazzle at her command.
“You are safe with us, Tiberius. I promise you that we will be gentle with you and that you will feel nothing but pleasure at our hands. Will you come home with us?”
He nodded shyly. Lucius reached down a hand and the boy took it, looking up at him. Lucius smiled at him warmly and the boy rose as applause thundered through Rookwood Hall. He blushed and hung his head. He really was a delightful little treat. How she looked forward to making him gasp and moan and cry out in pleasure - it might even be more fun than teaching him how to do the same to her. Tiberius was nearly as tall as Lucius, so they should fit together well. She looked around him to where her husband stood, his face alive with possibilities, and reached out her hands to him, encircling the slender boy. He pulled her closer to him, pressing Tiberius against him as the boy gasped.
“No worries,” he said, speaking with his lips near the boy’s ear, which made him shiver again but not with fear this time. “We are Apparating you to our home now, so hold on to your mistress.” The boy’s arms went around her tentatively.
“Tighter,” she whispered. “We wouldn’t want you to get splinched.” With that he hung on to her for dear life as she and Lucius cast the spell together that would take them straight to Malfoy Manor, through the wards and into their bedroom.
When they arrived he seemed a trifle dazed, his head burrowed into her shoulder.
“Have you never Apparated before?” she asked, wondering if their treasure might be a squib. Not that it would make any difference to her. Pleasure was pleasure, after all, and he was so very beautiful.
“Yes, Mistress,” he answered, lifting his head but still not looking at her. “Just never before with someone else like this.”
“So you are a wizard?” Lucius asked.
“Yes, Master. Mr. Jugson has my wand for safekeeping. He said that -,” and here he paused and took a deep breath as if to steady himself, “that whoever bought me would prefer that I not have it.”
Lucius drew the boy back against his body, caressing his arms and chest as he did. “Do you feel helpless, Tiberius? Is this why you are frightened?” The boy closed his eyes and leaned into Lucius’s body, obviously enjoying the touching. He nodded slightly. “Do you understand that we have not purchased you, just twelve hours of your time for our pleasure and yours?”
“Yes, Master,” he whispered, “but I know nothing of giving pleasure. I would not know where to begin. I have never touched another in this way. No one has ever touched me.”
“Not even caresses like this?” she asked as she fanned her hands across his narrow chest, gently dragging her nails over his skin and across his pebbled nipples. His breath caught and he shook his head. “Do you ever touch yourself?”
“Yes, Mistress.” He blushed a bright red and his voice shook as he answered. Lucius skimmed his hands down to the tops of the boy’s thighs. Narcissa took out her wand and looked at Lucius, who answered with a sly smile.
“Show us, Tiberius,” he said. “Show us how you give yourself pleasure. The mistress will shorten your toga so that we can see.”
The boy whimpered as she bared him, reaching shaking hands down toward his beautifully erect cock, the plum-coloured head peeking through a thick, velvety foreskin. He was completely hairless there as well, also doubtless Jugson’s doing. He took himself in his right hand, reaching under to cradle his bollocks in the other.
“Tell us what you think about when you do this. What do you imagine?”
“Hands, touching me,” he said, closing his eyes and gently stroking himself, “lips, kissing me in places which have never been kissed.” The head was completely unsheathed now and weeping copiously. Lucius gently removed the boy’s hands from his genitals and his cock sprang up high and fine, bouncing against his shortened toga just below his navel. His bollocks were already drawn up tight and as Lucius gently restrained the boy’s hands in his and she reached for him, his eyes flew open and he shook his head wildly. “No, Mistress, please! If you touch me now I’ll - .” She stepped back and smiled.
“How many times in the time we have available to us do think you can orgasm?”
“Th- three. The most I’ve ever managed is three.”
“Then we are going to give you a choice, Tiberius. The master knows a spell which can prevent you from coming, but it will leave you hard and wanting, which makes it difficult to concentrate. And he must remove it. Or, I know one which will make it feel less urgent for only a short time so that you can enjoy our touches and kisses and come when you please. Then, after either one, we can teach you how to give pleasure to us. Which would you like?”
“The second please,” said Tiberius shakily.
Lucius squeezed the boy’s hands and chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself, Narcissa.”
“Very well, then. I shall do you both. Tiberius, turn around and help the master undo his robes, please.”
He turned in Lucius’s arms and brought trembling hands to the top of her husband’s ornate robes and, with a little guidance from him, began unfastening them. The boy’s backside really was lovely to behold and the thought of him on hands and knees, spread and open and waiting to be penetrated for the first time sent flame through her belly and moisture trickling down her legs. It was one of nature’s best gifts to womanhood that there were no limits on orgasms for her, because she really could come right now where she stood. Instead, she fought it down. She’d like her first of the several she’d have tonight to be with the boy between her legs, while Lucius instructed him in the finer points of oral pleasure.
When his robes were open, Lucius told the boy to kneel and unfasten his drawers. “You may touch me the way you touch yourself while you do so.”
Tiberius nodded and dropped gracefully to his knees and began to untie the drawstring which held them up, fumbling with the knot. Lucius stroked the boy’s face as he worked, and when the knot was undone and the drawers dropped to the floor, watched as he was taken into those lovely hands, their touch maddeningly tentative. Lucius moaned. The boy looked up at him anxiously.
“Am I doing this wrong, Master? What should I do?”
“I would like to teach you to use your mouth, but, like you, I am too close to coming for that right now.” He drew the boy’s head toward him. “Instead, I’d just like you to kiss those places you’ve dreamed of being kissed yourself. Can you do that?”
In answer, Tiberius leaned forward and slipped a hand under her husband’s testes and lifted them slightly, placing a gentle kiss on each side, then another at the base where they met his cock. Slowly, he kissed his way up the shaft until he reached the dark pink head. Both men were breathing heavily now as Tiberius placed a kiss on the crown and pulled away, blushing, his lips slick with pre-come. She watched as her husband raised the boy and kissed his lips, pulling his hips forward so that their cocks met. What a beautiful sight! She stepped over and ran her finger where they were pressed together. Her reward was stereo moans.
“Narcissa, I think you’d better work that spell now,” said Lucius, raising his mouth, - just, from the boy’s.
So she replaced her finger with her wand and drew it slowly along her husband’s shaft, and then Tiberius’s. “Torpete.”
Both relaxed a bit. “Much better, my dear.” She put her arms around them and Lucius leaned down to kiss her as the boy watched avidly. Then she turned and kissed Tiberius. He was sweet and eager, not quite knowing what to do with his tongue, so she decided to demonstrate. He was a quick learner, his tongue chasing hers into her mouth, sweeping across her upper palate, tasting with enthusiasm if not finesse. They would teach him to be an utter wanton, she could see, and the thought set her on fire.
“Undress me with the master’s help, Tiberius.”
The two of them set to work, Lucius showing the boy how to undo her elaborate costume, and how he should touch and kiss and fondle as he went along. When they were down to her stockings, camisole and her soaked knickers, she stopped them.
“It’s time to retire to the bed, don’t you think?” She looked at her husband, who slipped his robes from his shoulders and smiled.
“Definitely.” He held out his hands to Tiberius and drew the boy across the room and against their commodious four-poster. A flick of his wand turned down the bedclothes and he slipped in, pulling Tiberius after. She followed quickly. Together they pushed the boy down onto the bed, his long burnished-gold hair fanning out across the pillows.
“Don’t you want to finish undressing, Mistress?”
“Oh, we’ll get there soon enough. Your task right now, my lovely slave, is to be the vessel we fill with pleasure until you run over.”
So she and Lucius beset him with hands and mouths. She breathed into his ear, and then stabbed into it with the point of her tongue, listening for the sweet gasp which followed. She kissed down the side of his jaw, along his neck, gently playing with his collar.
“To whom do you belong now?”
“You, Mistress,” he panted, “You and the Master.”
She rewarded him with a deep kiss, and then small kisses along his collarbones down to the flat ovals on his chest. She swept aside the fabric which still covered the right side of his chest and sucked and nipped until the nub stood tall and rosy, as Lucius did the same on his left. And all the while her mouth was busy, her hands roamed his body. As she caressed and squeezed and cupped, the boy moaned and writhed. She followed her hands with her mouth, finally vanishing the shortened toga he was wearing, as it was just in the way now. Pre-come puddled on his flat belly, and she kissed around the boy’s hipbones, just allowing her hair to sweep over his erection, but otherwise avoiding it. He thrust into the air in response. She and Lucius smiled at each other over the boy’s cock, and then each took a long lick up the sides of the boy’s shaft. Deciding she wanted to bring him close again, she directed Lucius to hook his hand under the thigh beside him as she took the other, and they spread his legs apart widely. Then they both dove in and took a testicle in their mouths, gently sucking and tonguing until the boy was nearly incoherent and sobbing with lust. They pulled away to look at their handiwork.
Tiberius was sweat-soaked, panting and splayed beautifully on their sheets, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. His cock was nearly purple, and the pre-come was running off of his belly onto the bed, soaking it. His bollocks were drawn up tight again, and he was holding his legs spread so wide that the pink puckered entrance to his body was visible.
“Hook your arms under your legs, Tiberius.”
He did as she commanded, drawing his knees nearly to his shoulders. She reached into her own knickers, scooping her wetness onto her fingers and then drew them down his perineum, pressing lightly as she went. He drew a sobbing breath as his hips jerked up. Her fingers settled on his anus and rubbed her slickness into the folds.
“Did Mr. Jugson have you prepare yourself?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied in a hoarse whisper.
“Good.” She continued circling the puckered ring, pushing against it lightly. She could feel the muscles there clench and release. “Because I would like the master to fuck you while you are fucking me. Would you like that?”
The only answer she got was a guttural cry as the boy came, his cock pulsing untouched as he shot across his chest. Lucius and she looked at each other in awe. Oh yes, this one was definitely worth keeping. They crawled back up to lay beside him, as he released his legs. They enfolded him between them and she pillowed his head on her breast. The boy’s eyes were heavy and dreamy and he sighed as they pet and stroked him.
“ ‘M sorry, Master, Mistress.”
“Whatever for?” Lucius asked. “You gave the perfect answer to your mistress’s question.”
“Can’t seem to keep my eyes open.”
“Sleep then, for a short while, and we’ll have some refreshment when you wake.”
He looked up at her then, an uncanny light in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, and closed his lids. It was obvious that the gratitude in his voice was for more than the leave to doze. It made her smile.
Lucius dragged his knuckles down the boy’s face and whispered, “Extraordinary.”
“How long should we let him sleep, Lucius?” she whispered back. “After that little performance, I can hardly wait to have him.” She gently swept the hair away from his face. “And I am feeling very much as if I want to keep him.”
“I know what you mean.” He sighed and gazed down at the boy, looking troubled. “But I don’t think we can.”
“Whyever not?”
“Run your hand over his left forearm, Narcissa.”
She did and looked up at her husband with a start. He held his own forearm out to feel, but she knew what she’d find. The Mark might be quiescent now, but the ugly thing could still be seen and felt on Lucius’s arm. “It’s a Glamour, isn’t it?” She looked down at the boy, trying to peer through it, but could detect no fault which would permit it. “Jugson’s not that powerful.”
“No. But who do we know who is that powerful, Marked, 22 and more than likely a virgin?”
The answer was a obvious as, well, the nose on his face. Or, at least the nose that lay hidden by the Glamour. “Severus,” she breathed. “Well, I understand the Glamour, then. It is a pity it’s not real, but I don’t mind that it’s him if you don’t,” she said, and unaccountable wave of tenderness swept through her as she gazed at him asleep in her arms.
“No, I don’t mind at all. If I’d known he’d be like this, I’d have attempted to seduce him long ago. He’s not beautiful, but he’s very compelling somehow. And I liked him from when he was sorted into the House. You know he’s begun his second year of teaching at Hogwarts? Best appointment Dumbledore ever made. He intends him to be Head of Slytherin next year. ”
“But, how did he end up so in debt to Jugson that he had to sell himself to pay him off?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” he said darkly. “I wish Severus had come to me, but, as we’re reaping the benefits in a way we’d have never considered ourselves, perhaps I won’t hurt Jugson too much.”
“Should we tell him we know?”
“I’ve been thinking about that and I’m of the opinion that we shouldn’t. It would just shame and embarrass him.” Lucius shook his head. “I don’t think he’d have been this way with us as himself. Anonymity can be freeing, you know. So, I say we carry on as if we haven’t any idea that ‘Tiberius’ is a facade and do as we intended. And when we have given him the thorough sexual education he needs, we let him go and we wait a little. Then, when want is about to consume him, we seduce him as himself. We needn’t ever tell him we know the truth.”
She leaned across their sleeping boy to kiss him soundly. “You, my darling, are a genius. That sounds like the perfect plan. I think I’ll summon Mitsy now to bring us a light supper and then we’ll wake him and begin his complete debauchment. I intend to have him begging to be fucked before the hour is out."