Twilight Fan Fiction / Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Far Be It From Me, That I Might Fall For You ❯ Thirteen Days In ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The series is property of JK Rowling. This is merely a work of fanfiction.

Chapter 3: Thirteen Days In

Chapter Warnings:
-Dehumanization
-Depersonalization
-Ongoing Abuse of A Minor
-Ongoing Emotional/Psychological Abuse
-Ongoing Physical Abuse
-Ongoing Verbal Abuse
-Ongoing Sexual Abuse
-Ongoing Sexual Assault
-Enemas/Enema Play
-Emerging Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
-Allusions to Omegaverse
-Ongoing Forced Dominance and Submission
-Ongoing Victim Shaming

The eleventh and twelfth day Draco hasn't much to complain about in terms of how things go. The worst is being ordered to lay on a couch in Harry's study in the evenings and be a good boy for him while Harry does as he pleases with him.

Harry doesn't take things past fondling Draco's breasts or arsecheeks and rubbing at the lines of his nether lips on either day, leaving Draco with shot to hell nerves, but little else to get upset over. Draco wishes all his days as Harry's slave could be that way. Alas the thirteenth day is another reality check for the teen.

Harry loads everything onto a trolley. A breast pump, ten empty milk jugs, and twenty two hundred milliliter enema syringes; as well as a very special piece of lingerie he'd owl ordered from Magical Japan, a custom sacred rope two piece; the perfect bra and panties for his slave.

Custom in the sense that they were heavily enchanted in ways that would make his slave rue the day he was born while also keeping him safe in the event that Harry ever choose to share him with someone, and that other person get a little carried away. Checking the time, just after dawn, in other words, perfect; Harry heads towards Draco's room with the trolley. It is high time he had some cow fun with his slave.

Harry tugs the covers down and off of Draco's body and just watches him for a while, amused at how the blond sleeps on; oblivious to what awaits him, and apparently not immediately registering the loss of warmth that came from the removal of the covers. Draco's hair, usually kept in a braid as it was on the day he fell into Harry's hands, is fanned out around his head like a spider web pooling out well beyond the pillow his head rests upon.

His face is naturally more at peace than Harry ever sees it while the blond is awake. The blond's perfectly trimmed eyebrows and radically long eyelashes, tiny mouthed big plump red lips, and pointed nose; are all stunning stand-out features on his oval shaped face. Yes, his slave is very pretty indeed. Harry needs to find out who was responsible for Lucius and Narcissa's deaths and send them a very sincere thank you letter.

Draco's naked frame rises and falls gently with each breath, and Harry gives him once over after once over, utterly mesmerized and shamelessly addicted. Although in a state of rest; Draco's breasts are so full of milk that his nipples are fully erect, and Harry can tell from the white spotting of the milk ducts that if Harry were to grab those breasts and squeeze right now, Draco would be raining milk like a shower head spills water.

With this in mind Harry summons a house elf and quietly orders it to bring him a bucket, a large one. Harry doesn't know if Draco will have enough milk in him to fill both the bucket and the jugs, but he intends to find out.

Draco's arms and midriff have been growing more muscularly defined thanks to all the chores Harry has him doing and assisting with. In addition to cooking meals and cleaning, Harry has Draco assist his gardening staff with their work.

Eventually he'll have the blond tutored in how to take care of the animals on the estate. Draco's gorgeous long legs are close together obscuring Harry's view of his privates for the most part, but what Harry can see of them is still so beautiful and tempting that he has to make himself look away or he'll start drooling. A few more minutes of Draco watching and Harry decides it is time to get started.

"Draco," He calls, strong and firm, but not booming. "Time to wake up." Draco snaps his eyes open and sits up like someone pulled a fire-alarm, frantically looking this way and that, blinking rapidly for a bit before scoffing just a little when he register's Harry's presence.

"Oh, it's you. No note this morning?" Harry should technically punish the blond for speaking to him with such sass, but he realizes from the way Draco moves to rub at his eyes immediately after his words that the blond isn't much of a morning person, and what he has planned for the boy is going to be punishment enough either way, so Harry lets it slide.

"Yes it's me." Harry says, casting a freshening charm on the blond with a wave of his hand. "And yes, you'll get your usual task note for this morning. Later though. Right now, I have something I want to use you for."

"As you know, there are many animals on this estate. Some of these animals you have things in common with." Harry adds, calling over the trolley. "Milk production for example. Every time I look at your breasts I think about what it would be like to milk you. I already know what the milk will taste like; after all, I chose the lactation shots."

Draco scurries away to the headboard of the bed, looking both scared and appalled. Harry laughs and picks up the last minute addition to the trolley. "First up, this bucket. Come here."

Draco hesitates only a moment before obeying. Harry allows it only because he really does enjoy watching the wealth of emotions that flicker in the boy's eyes at these times. He positions Draco on his hands and knees, just so, with his breasts hovering over the bucket and gets behind the boy.

"Moo for me dear." He orders, leaning upon him, grabbing hold of the teen's breasts. He waits, but Draco refuses. "Do it!" He squeezes the globes in his hands harshly, with as much intent to hurt as he can muster, and relishes in the first cow sound he manages to drag out of his slave, as the first rain of milk fills the bucket.

"Louder Draco, I want the whole property to hear you!" He exclaims on the next squeeze. Draco shudders under him, voice wavering and laced with sobs as he complies. Harry squeezes, again and again and again; on and on until the bucket is full, and Draco's voice goes hoarse; from mooing louder and louder with nearly every squeeze.

"Please tell me this is over." The teen begs, when Harry lets go of his breasts and slides the bucket away. Harry laughs, summoning one of the milk jugs and sliding it into place. "Tough luck darling, I intend to milk you till you're empty and need to rejuvenate the supply."

"Please. Please Master Harry, not like this." Draco pleads upon spotting the breast pump, as Harry grabs his breasts again. Harry fondles the globes and wonders about using the breast pump or continuing this way. While the current way is definitely more fun, there is something he can do to make the other method extra worthwhile.

"Since you've been so entertaining, I'm going to make a compromise with you." Harry says, and squeezes. "We'll continue like this for five of the jugs. The other five, you'll use that breast pump to put on a very nice show for me. I don't care if we have to wait for you to rejuvenate, you're going to milk yourself until those other five jugs are filled."

Draco's body sags a little in resignation, "Yes Master Harry, I understand sir." Harry moves to suck at the junction between the blond's neck and shoulder and continues squeezing his breasts; the sound of milk raining into a container that's such an ironic masterpiece of music to his ears, is soon joined by little gasps and moans of pleasure from Draco, as Harry follows up sucking at the junction between the blond's neck and shoulder, with a wandless nonverbal spell that simulates an invisible hand fingering the teen both anally and vaginally.

Draco throws his head back against Harry's chest as the jug is finally filled, and screams as he orgasms, come overflowing from his cock, pussy, and ass. Harry grins, the omega nature of Draco's hermaphrodite transformation has shown itself at last. He's one step closer to breaking the boy, and he was right. The journey has been thoroughly enjoyable, and Harry will make sure it stays that way.

"What? What's happening to me?" Draco asks, as Harry slides the second jug into place.

"Your omega nature has finally shown itself. I didn't turn you into any ordinary hermaphrodite darling. Slaves can be freed. Hermaphrodites, the ordinary kind anyway, they're beloved by society. They can reproduce with both males and females. They can perform magic other magicals can't. Omegas though, these are what are known as false hermaphrodites. They're not born, they're made. Like how I made you. Transfigurations and Potions magic is used to create Omega Hermaphrodites. In cases like yours, even if you're freed, there's no-one in magical society who will see you as anything other than holes to fuck and a vessel for breeding. You can't do the magic that born hermaphrodites can." He explained, giving Draco's nipples a harsh pinch before resuming milking him, making the teen yelp and shout a string of curse words unbefitting of his aristocratic roots.

"Also, you will never truly enjoy being used like the real thing would. You can be trained, conditioned, until you're very convincing, but the raw and true pure joy of a real hermaphrodite? That will always be beyond you. Eventually, the training, the conditioning? It will break you." Harry gave a particularly vicious squeeze and moved his head so his mouth was at Draco's left ear. "It's my end game for you darling."

"I'm going to reduce you into such a shell of your former self, of a human being even, that there will be nothing left in your soul for even the dementors at Azkaban to have anything to feed on. I don't know what I'll do with you after that, but it's hardly relevant. I'll have had my revenge." With this said, Harry's milking of Draco's breasts takes a violent and chaotic turn.

Draco screams and cries, curses and whines, as Harry practically crushes Draco's breasts with his large thick-skinned hands with every squeeze. Harry's wandless nonverbal magic washes over him just as viciously; what had once been two phantom fingers working him to orgasm in the pussy and ass, turning into four in the pussy; an invisible thumb stroking away at the pearl of his clitoral hood, applying unbearable button mashing style pressure on it more often than not; and in Draco's ass? What had once been two fingers becomes a whole fist and it treats Draco's prostate like its own personal punching bag.

Harry slides the fifth filled jug away just as Draco orgasms again, shoves the blond down and rolls him over, before he can recover. He summons the breast pump from the trolley, and throws it at the teen's chest. "You have five minutes to get started, and you'd better give me a good show or I'm going back to milking you with my own hands."

Draco just lays there breathing raggedly and trying to recover physically, mentally, emotionally. He wonders if Harry had gotten so violent as a result of Draco trying to bargain with him, or if he'd planned such a violent turn beforehand. He wonders if Harry's words are true, he's never been versed much in hermaphrodites. All he knew was that they were a rare and dangerous asset to magical society. Draco's father had once said hermaphrodites are more trouble than they're worth.

"Two minutes Draco." Harry informs, from where he's made himself comfortable on the bed.

To his credit, Draco's eagerness to please kicks in. Harry can see him disappear into a submissive headspace, as though a switch had been flipped, through his eyes; and makes a mental note to look into if that's something a person can simply do of their own accord later.

Draco attaches the breast pump, drops the other end of the hose into the empty jug and starts milking himself. This particular breast pump is an older model, but still designed to allow the user to always have one hand free, and Draco appears to have immediately noticed this; for he uses his free hand to masturbate.

He starts with what he's familiar with, casting a cleaning charm on himself and then a lubrication charm on his hand. Unlike when he was servicing Harry, Draco's masturbation technique is confident instead of shy. The blond pumps his own cock with an exuberance that borders on excitement, like Draco looks forward to the orgasm he's going to give himself.

Harry isn't about to allow that. With a wave of his hand Draco's hand is moving off his cock like it's under the Imperious Curse and heading for the blond's pussy. Draco doesn't make a return from subspace, but he also surprises Harry by bypassing his pussy and wrapping his hand around his ball-sac instead.

Draco plays with his balls for a while, the hand on the breast pump tapping away at the button that triggers suction at a solid pace. The jug is just over a quarter of the way full. Draco stops playing with his balls and surprises Harry once more.

The blond summons a vibrator egg from one of the drawers of a dresser that Harry has stored toys in that he intended to introduce the blond to intimately one at a time in the not so near future. Still in subspace the blond casts a lubrication charm on the sex toy and places the egg between his nether lips, against his vaginal hole. He casts a sticking charm on it and then pulls the cord to activate it.

Draco's hand again heads for what Harry knows must be familiar territory. Pleasuring his own vagina would have been unfamiliar to the boy until now, but pleasuring his ass likely isn't completely unfamiliar to him despite his claim of virginity when he first fell into Harry's hands.

Another lubrication charm later and Harry is treated to, the delightful sight of his slave using first his index finger then both his index and middle finger to fuck his own arse. The jug fills, but the blond doesn't orgasm. Harry's not going to let him, not until the end. Harry switches the filled jug for another when the time comes, but the milking has honestly become an afterthought to him.

Draco whom's pleasure sounds had been mostly quiet start increasing in volume all of a sudden, after the third jug has been put into place; and Harry knows the blond has not only found his prostate, but for whatever reason decided to target it. Harry's not complaining, he'd demanded a good show and he was getting just that.

When the final empty jug is all that has to be filled, Harry vanishes his trousers and pants into a neat pile on one of the dressers, and gives his erect cock some much needed relief. He strokes himself lazily until the jug is nearly full. When it has filled, he lifts his restricting magic from the blond and the sight of him orgasming, only to come back from subspace and visibly recoil in disgust at himself upon realizing all that he'd done while under, tips Harry over the edge.

Harry comes back from his own high to the sight of Draco in a fetal position, the vibrator egg and the breast pump both discarded. The blond has positioned himself with his back to the items and thus to Harry. The much older man pretends not to hear the blond's quiet crying.

Leaving the boy for the time being, he returns the vibrator egg and the breast pump to their places after casting a cleaning charm on each. He then calls for a house elf to take half of the now filled milk jugs and the filled bucket and store the contents. Harry eyes the enema syringes and considers how long to give Draco before proceeding to the next act of his cow fun.

In the end, he chooses not to announce his intentions to the blond just yet; and merely prepares the syringes. Once all of them are filled, Harry announces his intentions with a wave of his magic upon the boy's body; that turns Draco's body into the equivalent of an empty dumpster inside, to an extent, ready for whatever Harry chooses to fill it with. Draco uncoils from his fetal position and turns over to glare at him. "What have you done to me now?"

"You won't be giving me this much sass for long pet." Harry says, chuckling at the teen's mood swings. "You see, now that you've been milked, I figure you deserve to enjoy the product. Would you not agree?"

Draco's face shutters at the sight of the syringe when Harry grabs one off the trolley. Harry smirks, the fear in the boy's eyes a balm to his soul. Lucius and Narcissa are definitely rolling in their graves. He pointed at the teen and with a gentle nudge from his magic, Draco was at the center of the bed, arms spread left and right, legs up and pinning those arms in place, knees at either side of his head; arse and more importantly arsecrack, on perfect display. All the earlier action the blond's anus had endured, meant his arsecheeks and arsecrack, were both too relaxed to hide the partially gaping state of his arsehole.

Casting a cleaning charm on the blond's hole and another on the syringe, Harry leaned over and plunged the head of the syringe in along with five centimeters of the syringe's length, before pushing the nozzle down unloading the milk. Draco cried out as something other than fingers breached his anus for the first time, and showing his age and innocence; commented about how weird being given an enema felt. Harry nonchalantly repeated his actions until all the syringes were empty, but left the final one in Draco while he refilled the rest.

"I... uh... ugh..." Draco, evidently unable to retreat into subspace during this, incoherently fumbles for words. "So strange... my body's swelling up like a balloon... what are you playing at?"

"Come now, I'm sure you've read about and seen art of enemas taken to the extreme and come inflation too. The world hasn't changed that much since I was a teenager." Harry teased, rubbing the blond's gradually swelling abdomen, as he unloaded another syringe's milk into him.

Draco didn't have a retort for that, and as Harry filled the blond with more and more of his own breast milk, Draco stopped talking more and more. Eventually the blond was reduced to nothing, but whimpers and whines, of escalating discomfort, pain, and finally agony.

His body swells up from just under his breasts, to just above the pockets housing his clitoral hood and cock. Harry doesn't stop until all the milk has been relocated into Draco, and rather than remove the syringe that unloads the last of the milk from the blond's anus, Harry twists and twirls it by the nozzle with one hand; while rubbing Draco's stomach and abdomen in a faux gesture of comfort.

"You know, there's something else you can never truly do that a real hermaphrodite can." He taunts, shifting from twisting and twirling the syringe; to thrusting it in and out of the blond avidly.

"Unlike the real thing, you don't get to choose. Every born hermaphrodite has a one true mate in this world. For the created ones like you, there is no such person. You could be freed by me and spend the rest of your life looking, but you would find no-one. You'd be used over and over in your search for the one, through no real will of your own; and in the end, you'd die unfulfilled."

When Harry finally pulls the syringe out, it's only to replace it with his cock. Draco scrabbles at the sheets at the unexpected intrusion. His body aches so badly. To add his first real penile fuck to the equation is unbelievably cruel of Harry. The older man is clearly not interested in Draco's pleasure, plunging in and out of him like a speed demon. His hands find purchase on Draco's breasts, and as though there weren't enough milk at play already, he squeezes the globes in time with every thrust.

"You feel so good, pet. In spite of everything I'd already put you through, your ass is still deliciously tight. Your walls cling so sweetly to me." Draco wants to die at the words; this is so far from what he imagined his sex life being like. He can't help wondering how Harry will go about ruining his first penile vaginal fuck considering how he's ruined his first penile anal fuck.

In the end, there's one final squeeze to Draco's breasts; one final thrust, one shower of milk that mixes with jet after jet of white hot pearly come, as Harry unloads on Draco's milk enema inflated stomach and abdomen; and one explosive flood of milk, as Harry lifts the magic keeping the now filled dumpster like void, that had taken residence on Draco's person intact; allowing the liquid to make its exit from its progenitor once again. Draco passes out before Harry is even half done casting the spells to clean them and the bed up.

Harry decides to leave the blond alone for the rest of the day and even foregoes giving him any chores. He has a house elf keep tabs on the blond's condition and bring him his meals. Draco rather predictably spends most of the day washing himself in the en suite bathroom or curled up in bed. Reflecting on what happened? Sleeping? Crying? Harry really doesn't care. He's merely rewarding the blond with time to himself after it all, because Draco was so deliciously entertaining.

That evening Harry has a cup of Draco's milk with his dinner. The taste is exactly as he'd chosen, the divinity of treacle tart. As good as it is, and as fun as obtaining it was, the next time he has a taste of the milk; he intends to get it straight from the source with his own mouth. He stares at the lingerie he'd not gotten around to outfitting Draco with, and decides to wait another day before breaking it in.

Chapter End