Disclaimer: Don't own anything

Warnings: Taboo material (BDSM) that might be weird for some people, and of course, Harry's potty mouth.

P.S. I just wanna say, that I love Harry! He's so much fun to write.

Chapter Three:

"Yeah yeah yeah! Fine, whatever, you can have...wait, what!"

Ginny blanched at the sound of Tom's voice, quickly spinning around only to find him staring intently at Harry. His eye was quirked as he undoubtedly tried to make sense of Harry's attire. She had to get Harry out of there. Quick. She loved her friend dearly. He had a good heart and was possibly the kindest person she ever had the chance of meeting. But right now he was unwanted, and while Harry's heart was always in the right place, his head often wasn't.

Harry was rash, impulsive, quick to action and slow to thoughts of any consequences that might befall. He was brave and loyal; almost to a fault. His belief that he had to dress up like he was coming to a leather bar was proof enough of that. Ginny knew that when Harry was determined and fixated on something he wouldn't let it rest until he achieved an outcome he was satisfied with. His presence there could only mean that she was his current focus and if Ginny allowed things to go any further, Harry would ruin everything. And good intentions aside, she might never forgive him for it if he messed up her opportunity.

She'd been so confused about everything. About herself and the peculiar desires that raced through her mind. Curiosity made her look sneak through the pile of magazines under Ron's bed when she had been fourteen and their contents had been pretty standard; naked voluptuous women showcasing tantalizing peeks at their naked parts. They were fascinating. She had just started going through puberty (an unfortunate late bloomer) and the images of what her body might develop into held a sort of fascination for Ginny. So whenever he wasn't around, she snuck into his room and looked through the catalogues of naked women like it was just another clothing magazine.

For weeks this went on, until one day a particular magazine had an ad section in the back with a picture of a woman tied up in ropes, a ball in her mouth, and a man standing in front of her smiling darkly holding what appeared to be a paddle. Shocked by the image, she'd dropped the magazine and ran to her room.

She was even more shocked at the way the image haunted her for the next couple of days.

She just couldn't stop thinking about it. She was so curious and dare she say it, positively fascinated by what she had seen. None of the other pictures had captured her attention the way that one did and she didn't know why. She only knew that it couldn't be normal because what person in their right mind would be interested in something like that. Even curiosity for curiosity's sake didn't make her feel better about her continued thoughts on the photo. The shame she felt at her continued recollection of it prohibited her from going back to her brother's room, but only for a while.

When Ginny finally chalked up the courage to revisit her brother's porno stash, in particular that picture, Ginny was almost sick. But she stowed it away, locked up her hidden shame and mortification long enough to gaze upon the picture again. She stared so long at it, unintentionally memorizing every little detail- the bright redness of the ball gag, the way the ropes dug into the woman's flesh, the tantalizing size of the paddle, the combined look of fear and desire in her eyes and the predatory gaze of the man's.

From that moment on Ginny's life had been dedicated to learning more about…that. And all the books, all the websites, all the emails…they had dutifully led to her to her current location. After two years of research, she was finally about to do some field testing. And with Tom Riddle of all people.

So you see, it wasn't that she didn't appreciate and love Harry for coming to what he thought was her aid because she did- it was that she'd spent the last two years confused, scared, ashamed and closeted about her desires and her opportunity to figure it all out was standing only several feet away from her. She was not about to go back to pretending to she was normal. She wasn't going to go back pretending to be into vanilla sex because she was too ashamed to tell her boyfriends her wants and needs. She wasn't going to be alone anymore.

She wasn't.

Risking the chance of looking away from Riddle, Ginny turned around to face Harry who was gazing rebelliously at Tom. "Harry," she whispered hurriedly, "I'm sorry about everything, but you've got it all wrong, I want to be here, so you have to leave. Now. Please?" The only response Harry gave her plea was to cross his arms against his bare torso, not relinquishing his gaze from Tom. She tried again, allowing the desperation to seep into her voice. She had to make him understand.

"Harry, please? I swear I'll explain everything later, but for now, j-just trust me."

Whatever was happening had gone on long enough. Tom wanted some answers. "Ginevra-"

"Trust? You expect me to trust you?" Harry asked incredulously. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Harry, I-"

"You sneak out of the house while you're parents are away. You don't tell anywhere where you're going, who you're going with, or when you think you're going to be back. You don't answer your cell when Ron Hermione and I bombard your phone with calls and text messages. You make us all sick with worry. Ron is on the verge of calling the cops and trying to figure out a way to tell Molly and Arthur that he lost their only daughter, Hermione is in tears, and I'm searching dark alleyways praying to every god I've ever read about that you haven't been kidnapped, raped, or killed-"

"I…" Ginny tried to intervene but found nothing to say in the face of Harry's verbal tirade. She had never experienced her friend angry before.

"Ginny, you'll be lucky if any of us ever trust you again."

The gravity of the situation finally hit Ginny. In all honesty she had never meant to deceive anyone. But how was she supposed to tell her brother and her friends that she was headed to a BDSM club? Could you imagine how that conversation was going to go?

She was already dealing with her own confused feelings; trying to explain them to someone else was impossible. Even know, in the face of Harry's wrath and disappointment, Ginny still couldn't tell him. Couldn't make him understand. So she said nothing. There was nothing she could say. The battle was over, and Harry Potter was the victor.

Tom remained silent during the boy's chastisement of the girl. He'd known something was out of place when he looked over his shoulder and found Ginevra being forcibly removed by a young man in…well in practically nothing.

Judging by the remarks the boy (apparently named Harry) just made, it would appear that Miss Ginevra wasn't as trustworthy as he had first assumed. The clues were in the context.

It wasn't uncommon that an eighteen year old girl might still be living with her parents, but the fact that someone had shown up looking for the little chit couldn't be coincidence. She wasn't supposed to be there. Which meant there was a high risk that he had an underage girl in his club.

A surge of annoyance went through Tom at the thought of her deceit. He didn't take kindly to being lied to. The fact that she might be underage didn't really bother him. He had enough power and prestige to prevent any negative fallout about having someone of her assumed age in his establishment. He was however slightly annoyed that he wouldn't be able to have his newest conquest.

Others might have dabbled in borderline age requirements, but Tom didn't. He didn't want a child, someone he had to raise as well as teach. No, he wanted a consenting and mature adult that would be able to fully delve into and meet his own requirements for the duration of the time that they spent together. Besides, sixteen years was the legal age of consent as for as BDSM was concerned, but that came without the sexual component of the lifestyle. Again, for some that might be acceptable. There were people he knew that were able to separate sex completely from their play, but Tom didn't. He never had, and he never would.

"Ginevra," he said again. The girl looked at him with shiny pleading eye. If she thought they might move him, she was sorely mistaken. Tears were a sign of weakness, and he detested everything about them and the people that utilized them. He felt no sympathy for her at all.

"It would seem that you have not been completely honest with me, something I'm sure you know I cannot abide by." The girl said nothing, merely kept looking at him with that forlorn expression on her pitiful face. "You will be escorted out, and blacklisted. Should I ever find you near here again, you will find yourself in a grave amount of trouble. Do I make myself clear?" She nodded, the tears finally falling from her eyes.

"Alright, let's go Ginny," the boy said, seemingly brushing the Tom off. Oh that wouldn't do.

"My security will escort Ginevra to the door," Tom said, his eyes piercing through the darkness of the club and boring into Harry's. "You will come with me to my office so that we might discuss the ramifications of our mutual friend's little misadventure." Once again Tom turned around and began walking away, fully expecting to be followed.

The heat in Harry's stomach had not yet dissipated even after his rant at Ginny was over. She looked utterly miserable, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel like he was in the wrong. He was just so angry at her selfishness. Forget the personal debacle he had to put on to get into the club; it wasn't that important compared to the grand scheme of things.

Everyone had been worried and completely terrified. She had caused so much panic and for what, the chance to sneak into some fetish club. He didn't understand. Couldn't even fathom what had been going on in the girl's head. He only knew that she should have been more considerate to the people that cared about her. Nothing could have been worth the panic and heartache of those involved. Nothing.

Taking a sigh to control his angry, Harry ran his fingers through his hair. He was so stressed out. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of there, go back to his flat where he could burn the clothes he was wearing and sleep until his noon midterm. "Go stand by the door. I'm going to go talk to that bloke and make sure everything is alright. Ask one the bouncers to use their phone and call Ron and let him know you're alright and that we should be home within the hour." Thankfully Ginny didn't protest, simply started walking in the direction of the red door. Harry watched until she was out of sight before spotting the man that wanted to speak with him on the other side of the room. He entered though a metal door and Harry followed behind closing the door behind him as he entered.

He was standing in a normal office. No instruments of sexual depravity anywhere to been seen. It anything, it was kind of bland.

The room was done in tones of grey and green. There was an expensive looking wood desk sitting on the far end of the room and a bookcase filled with (you guessed it) books. Other than that it was pretty sparse. No plants, no pictures. Not even a mini-fridge tucked away in the corner. Just no personality at all. Harry watched as the man sat at the plush leather chair behind his desk and gestured for him to sit down as well.

In the light of the office, Harry was able to get a good look at who he supposed was the owner of the club. The man was tall. Taller even than Ron which meant he was banking at a good 6'2. Harry was pretty sure that if they stood next to each other he'd only be able to reach his shoulder. Like his patrons he was dressed in a form fitting suit of all black that was offset by the shock of his solid crimson tie. Even sitting behind the desk Harry could make out the muscle beneath the clothing. He had a powerful build and probably only two percent body fat on his entire frame. Harry was caught between feeling self-conscious and jealous. Puberty was such as asshole to him.

The man's face was also something to be jealous about.

Harry wasn't sure had ever seen a mean that could be so beautiful and so masculine at the same time. Honestly, the man had a face like murder. Aristocratic feature were framed with brown hair so dark it looked black. Short and parted to the side, he had the kind of hair Harry always tired (and failed) to achieve; immaculate and orderly. The cheeks were high, the mouth was full, and the eyes….those eyes.

Harry didn't like the eyes.

They weren't people eyes. He was in college to be a photographer. Yes some would call it a waste of time and a poor choice in major, but Harry loved it. There was something so fascinating about being able to capture moments- joyous moments, sad moments, tearful moments, surprise moments, all kinds of moments with just the snap of a button. So he spent a great deal of time looking. Sometimes at the world around them, but mostly the people who inhabited it. And as the man with the camera, people spent a lot of time looking back at him so he was fairly acquainted with all types of eyes. But he'd never seen eyes like that on anyone.

There was a hunger in the dark blue gaze that seemed inhumane, unearthly. His eyes made Harry feel unsafe and vulnerable like the man was dissecting him. Like he had just fallen into some sort of trap and was about to be eaten. Like he was laughing with people only to realize that the people were laughing at him. Harry had always considered himself independent and strong, so it was understandable that someone's gaze making him feel like Bambi walking through the forest during hunting season, made him very uncomfortable. He just wanted to leave. Now.

"I take it you're the owner." It was a statement, not a question. Of course this was the owner. Only owners had a private office and were able to blacklist people.

The haughty quirk of the man's lips made Harry want to slit his throat. "Yes, I'm Tom Riddle, owner of this establishment. And you would be?"

He couldn't believe he was conversing with the man that created a fetish bar. "Harry Potter," he said dourly. He was angry and tired and stressed, and quite sleepy. "Thank for kicking out Ginny. She probably would have just come back later, so…thanks for making sure that she can't."

"Oh please don't thank me." Ok… "I didn't do it out of the kindness of my heart." Harry couldn't stop his mouth from parting in shock. Five minutes in and Harry was already offended. He had never meant someone so blunt and rude before. Talk about abrasive.

Gaining his composure, Harry stood up and regretted doing it when Tom's feral eyes stared unabashedly at his partial nakedness. He tried not to come off as uncomfortable as he appeared, but gave into the desire to cross his arms against his chest in an effort to preserve his modesty. "Well for whatever reason you did, thanks nonetheless." Good now he could go. Or at least he thought, but he didn't even get to take one step before Tom's voice drew his attention back to its owner.

"What are you going to do with her?" Harry must have looked as confused as he felt because Tom clarified his question. "From what I gathered from your conversation, it appeared she came of her own volition. Yes, by dubious and un-honest means, but she chose to come here.

"I made this club with the intention of having only a certain clientele know its whereabouts and how to get in. I spared no expense in an effort to keep The Chamber of Secrets just that; a secret. With that understanding in mind, you must therefore comprehend that the means in which Ginevra took to get here were extensive. In other words…she knew exactly what she wanted, and she found the means to seek it out. That kind of determination won't be stopped just because she won't be getting into my establishment. " He smiled in a predatory way that made Harry's palms sweat. "You've thwarted only one attempt, to only one place. And I assure you, there are other places such as mine in which Ginny can seek whatever it is she's looking for."

Harry sank back into the chair despondent, his head whirling. He hadn't even considered that. And he knew Ginny. She was almost as determined and stubborn as he was. Tom was right. This could very well be just the beginning. Sure, she bore his wrath and Harry was sure she even felt a little bit bad about her actions. But that wouldn't prevent the red headed girl from still going about her own agenda.

"But she's only sixteen!"

"True. The legal consenting age in Britain for those that wish to partake in the lifestyle, and therefore, old enough to indulge as she sees fit. At the moment she's only lacking the proper mentor to…show her the ropes, I suppose you could say. I'm afraid that won't be the case for too long with a girl like Ginevra," he said adding a sympathetic look on his face for effect.

Harry stared at Tom, understanding and bewilderment etched on his expressive face before furrowing his brow. "Is that why she was with you? You were going to…teach her?"

Tom nodded. "Yes. We were on the verge of-"

Suddenly Harry sprung and launched himself across the desk, killer intent on his face. It happened quickly, and Tom was only just able to back away in time for Harry's fist to miss his face. The boy's momentum was lost and he ended up laying across Tom's desk scrambling to pull himself up, no doubt in an attempt to try his assault once more.

Rising from his chair, Tom grabbed the back of Harry's neck forcing his head down his desk. The black haired boy was fuming. "You right bastard! I'm going to kill you for trying to do anything with Ginny! She's just girl- only sixteen! You bloody- "

"Miss Ginevra came to me under the pretense of being eighteen. You're anger is misplaced in the fact that I do background checks with all my partners before proceeding. Her age would have been found out eventually." Tom explained calmly. Too calm in fact for Harry's liking as he had just attempted to smash his face in.

He continued struggling madly, attempting to weaken Tom's hold. It wasn't working. The mad had a grip of iron and the more Harry squirmed about the harder Tom squeezed down. He might even have a bruise on his neck by the time it was all said and done.

Tom simply watched, fascinated by the boy. He didn't think he'd ever met a person as expressive and emotionally capricious as Harry. One minute they were chatting, the next he was throwing himself across Tom's priceless teak desk in an attempt to avenge the girl's honor.

It was ludicrous. Such an emotional little creature.

Tom could only stare at the exquisite looking face. Those eyes were looking at him with such fury and indignation. They truly were a magnificent color, and having them directed at him with such angry passion was making Tom's mind wander.

What would those eyes look like doused in inexplicable pleasure? Would they darken? Would they widen in astonishment or narrow heatedly? He was moving around so much, trying to escape his hold. Would he writhe like that underneath Tom if he took him? Was he a screamer? A panter? A moaner? Or was he the strong silent type? Tom would bet his fortune that he was loud no matter what. And oh, such a filthy mouth if the explicit language he was currently using was anything to go by. Speaking of mouth….that mouth of his was pretty. Very pretty…and plump and pink. Such gorgeous lips. What would they look, or better yet feel like wrapped around his-

Tom let out a low groan at all the mental images of Harry and himself that were bombarding his mind. So many things….the possibilities seemed endless.

Still drowning in his mental imagery, Tom applied more pressure to Harry's neck making sure he was secure before walking around the table until he was standing directly behind him for further inspection.

In the office light his creamy skin had a healthy pink flush to it, no doubt from his exhortations. Tom's dark blue eyes followed the trial of the pinned man's spine all the way down until it disappeared in his leather pants. Tom stared, riveted at the lacy black strip of material that was nestled almost innocently on the boy's hip. Reaching down with his unoccupied hand, the stroked the boys exposed hip causing Harry to still momentarily before redoubling his efforts when Tom tugged gently on the thong's strap.

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" he yowled angrily, attempting to bring his arms behind his body in an effort to push Tom away. Tom was of course, indifferent to the boy's endeavors gazing fixedly at the two dimples just above the boy's rear.

He was perfection.

And Tom wanted him.

Harry, faced in the opposite direction was unprepared when he felt Tom grab both his wrists behind his back and raise them in the most unbearable of angles as if he was in a strappado device.

"Fuck! That hurts! Let go!" he yelled, outraged. He was only slightly mollified when he felt Tom's hand finally remove itself from his neck, but the strain he was putting on his arms rendered him incapable of moving anything but his head. And since he wasn't an owl and therefore blessed with an immeasurable amount of neck mobility, that wasn't very much. Lifting his head from the previous spot on his desk he craned his neck to the side as much as possible, but was only able to make Tom out behind him in his peripheral.

"This is harassment! You can go to jail for this! I'll make sure you go to jail for this!"

Tom just chuckled. "I very much so doubt that Harry as you were the one that tried to attack me first. I'm merely a poor victim that had to defend himself." He made a tsking sound. "And I was just about to offer you some aid in keeping Ginevra under control. Oh well."

Harry who had started trying to kick Tom stilled immediately. His breath came out choppy as he confirmed what he thought, what he hoped Tom had just said. "You know a way to stop Ginny from getting into other clubs?" he asked dubiously, not trusting the man.

"Of course. One phone call from me, and I can have her banned from every club in Britain, and some other places in Europe where I have connections."

"Do it then!" How rude and demanding. Oh well, Tom would teach him some manners later.

"Why should I? I've already aided you, and look at how unkindly you've repaid me thus far. You're horribly unappreciative, Harry."

Harry cringed and took a deep sigh. Ugh he didn't want to do this. "I…apologize."

"For what," Tom pressed. Harry didn't need to see the man's face to know that he was smirking.

"For…not being appreciative." He stayed silent until Tom moved his arms up a little higher causing him to groan in pain.


"For attacking you!" he rushed, thankful when his arms were lowered to a position not quite so painful. At this rate, his arm was going to pop out of its socket.

"Why thank you, Harry. So nice of you to apologize. Perhaps I was wrong about you after all." The playful quality of Tom's voice was beginning to grate on Harry's already limited supply of nerves. "Anything else?"




"I'm not a mind reader Harry."

"…Would you please help again, and stop Ginny from getting into other clubs? Please." Ugh he just wanted to vomit. Here was playing nice with some BDSM club owning psycho so he could prevent Ginny from doing something stupid in the future. The things he did for those he cared about. Life would have been easier if he was born lacking a heart and moral compass.

"Harry I would delighted to help-"


"But as I mentioned before, I don't do things out of the kindness of my heart. If you require my help, you'll have to negotiate for it with something of equal value. And it would be remiss to not inform you that I consider my time and resources very valuable." Of course the bloody bastard did.

"I don't have any money."

"The thought never crossed my mind that you did." Well that was just plain rude. College was expensive dammit!

"Well then I doubt I have anything that you would want." Stupid rich people. They were all the same. Thought they owned everything and everyone.

"Come now, don't be obtuse. I wouldn't have told you I'd be willing to trade my services if you didn't have something I desired. You do indeed having something that I wish to posses."

"Well you can have it then!" Harry yelled in frustration. This little game the older man was playing wasn't fun when it started, and it certainly wasn't fun now.

But Tom was having fun, and Harry missed the devious smirk that spread across his face.

"Very good then Harry…I'll have you."

"Yeah yeah yeah! Fine, whatever, you can have-" Harry blanched as he replayed what he just heard. "Wait, what!"

Past the point of talking Tom pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs from his back pocket. A little memento that he never left home without you could say. Harry didn't have a chance to breathe before both of his wrists were secured in them with an ominous 'clink clink.' Satisfied that Harry wouldn't be able to do much lying across his desk with his hands cuffed behind his back, Tom took a step back to admire his handy work.

"What the fuck-"

"Harry, is fuck the only angry word in your repertoire?" Harry shuddered. How was it possible to make the F word sound that bad and dirty? Tom had to be a professional curser. "If so we'll be working on your vocabulary as well as…other things. I won't be saddled with a simpleton that can't find his way properly around the English language."

His raven haired beauty began struggling anew and Tom watched on in devilish delight. "I am not a simpleton, and you can't have me! I'm a person…not some…some thing for you to torment." Oh poor Harry. He just didn't understand. But that was ok, because Tom was going to take great pleasure in making him understand.

Unwilling to listen to the boy's attempts at refuting his claim, he grabbed Harry's arm, pulled him upright until he was standing, before spinning him around to face him, plopping him on the desk and opening the boys legs so he could stand in between them.

Harry was dizzy with the sudden movements, and when he finally opened his eyes, they were staring directly into Tom Riddles. Even with the extra height of the desk he only came to the man's nose. But that was still closer than he ever wanted to be with the older man. He didn't like their proximity one bit. The dark blue eyes were drilling into his and Harry tensed up, unwilling to give into his desire to squirm. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

Tom watched with something akin to delight and lust as Harry refused to be quelled, opting instead to glower defiantly up at him. He liked that spirit, and he'd enjoy breaking it down until there wasn't a bit of it left. He reached behind the boy, placing one hand on the small of his back and scooting him closer, until their groins were touching. Harry's eyes widened when he felt the bulge of Tom's erection. His other hand came around and fisted the back of the boy's hair causing him to hiss when his head was pulled back non to gently.

"On the contrary Harry, you just said I could. Besides, this is the price I demand for my assistance in your little Ginevra problem. We can work out the formalities at a later date…so for now just relax." And protests Harry was about to make were shut down when Tom crashed their lips together.

Were they kissing? It couldn't be kissing. He didn't have that much experience in that department- the only kiss he having ever partaken in was with a girl he used to like named Cho, and it having been the worse experience ever. He'd tried to erase their kiss from his mind, but in light of his current situation he found himself drawing all sorts of comparison.

For one when he and Cho kissed it had been awkward. Harry didn't know what he was doing and Cho seemed to expect him to take the lead…it had just been very weird for both of them. Well more mortifying than weird. For him, anyway. Her lips had been really soft and hesitant. She'd been crying to so there was a really weird salty taste in the air around her. But their lips met, there was a bit of twisting necks (that's how they did it in the movies) and then they pulled apart. Very lackluster. Since then Harry had just believed that all kisses were like that and hadn't felt the need to take part in them. So what he was doing right now…it couldn't be kissing, right? Because it was pretty amazing.

Aside from the fact that he was handcuffed and that the man kissing him was, well a man, and a total prick, Harry couldn't help but think that if his first and only kiss had been like this the first time around, he'd be a total kissing slut.

Tom's lips were like a force of nature; forceful, awe-inspiring, and utterly destructive. There was no awkwardness; no feelings of uncertainty…Tom had it all under control. Like the man, the kiss was dominating and domineering, taking what he wanted without a second thought simply because he could. And Harry could do nothing but be pliant to his assault. It was making him dizzy again, but this time in a better way. Which again, was totally weird, but there was no more time to ponder because Tom chose that moment to grind his hips into Harry's.

"Ahhh!" Oh god was that him? He didn't know he could make noises like that. It was his damn pants fault. He could feel everything Tom was doing to him as the older man's hips rocked in time to the kiss.

The more rational part of Harry's mind knew that he should be feeling mortified, disturbed…anything really other then little tingles of electricity that were currently shooting through his body. If there was ever a time when he needed to use his head, it was now.

But it just felt so good.

Every time Tom's erection brushed his own he felt a hot jolt in his neither region that traveled up to the base of his belly. There was hot lava swirling in his stomach and each time Tom's tongue touched his, each time his (it seemed he'd lost all control of bodily function) hardened cock came in blessed contact with the older man's, the lava got hotter.

He was working his way up to something. Climbing some mountain that he knew when he reached its peak he'd gladly through himself off of. And Tom was the cause of it. Fucking bastard.

While Harry was fumbling his way through the myriad of feelings and pesky thoughts Tom was invoking in him, the older man was observing.

As he'd expected the boy was loud, and Tom found himself utterly captivated by the little gasps and mewls he could wring from Harry's pouty cupid bow lips. He tasted sweet too; like those fruity women drinks that Tom personally couldn't stand. They however didn't bother him too much on Harry's palate. And he was just so responsive. He liked that. He really liked that. You'd think the boy had never been touched intimately before. Tom was only vaguely aware of how much the thought of him being untouched excited him. He'd never cared about his previous partner's sexual history before.

"Just give in, Harry," he commanded roughly against the boy's lips before taking them into another brutal kiss. When Tom pulled away the naturally pink mouth were blazing red and swollen from his attentions. He watched in fascination was Harry's tongue crept out his mouth slowly and swiped across his lips. Tom groaned. The boy was killing him.

Harry's viridian eyes fluttered before closing again as Tom aimed another hard, well placed thrust. He was close, Tom knew. The boy's sporadic breathing, the way his hips started involuntarily moving against his as Harry tried to reach his release; he wouldn't last much longer. Confident that the boy wouldn't begin struggling again, Tom let go of Harry's neck and traveled down to grab his other hip.

With the lost of Tom's hand providing balance, Harry's torso fell backwards until he was lying, wrists still handcuffed behind his back, on Tom's desk. Harry only had time to manage a feeble glare before both of Tom's hand gripped his hips and pulled until his bum was hanging off the desk. Scared that he might fall, Harry did the only thing he was capable of and wrapped his legs around Tom's hips.

Exactly what Tom wanted.

With Tom's hands free be leaned over Harry's prone figure, placing his hands on either side of the boys head and began rocking to Harry's hips again with a savagely slow and teasing pace.

"Mmm…gods!" Harry cried out. The friction was unbearable, and the pace was driving him crazy. He was almost there. So close to the peak.

"Use your nice words Harry," the overbearing prick taunted in his ear before biting down the lobe causing Harry to scream. His body was going into overload. But he wouldn't give in. Drawing all the strength that hadn't already deserted him he opened his eyes and glared into the smug face that was hovering over his.

"Fuck no!"

The older man didn't seem the least bit upset over his refusal, but his eyes darkened in a way that made Harry feel cornered like an animal about to be devoured. "Keep tossing that word around Mr. Potter, and I'll be inclined to teach you real meaning of the word 'fuck.'"

Harry felt himself blush at Tom's lascivious tone. What was it with the man and cussing? He made it sound so dangerous and dirty and downright (dare he say it) hot. It made his cock throb in his tight pants and as Tom reached down and pinched one his nipples, Harry's world came apart with a loud cry.

His eyes were squeezed shut, almost painfully tight. His breathing became heavier and choppier. Tom particularly liked the way Harry bit his lips in a wasted attempt to be silent. Tom watched it all, as if time was going in slow motion, soaking in every part of Harry's beautiful countenance. That look…oh boy was defiantly untouched. No one came like that from a little drying humping. You'd have thought Tom had actually finished fucking him instead of just grinding their clothed cocks together.

'Well that settled it,' Tom thought as he pulled Harry's lax body against his and removed the handcuffs. The boy must have been really out of it because instead of trying to get away from him, Harry just continued to lean against his chest, gulping down oxygen like he was about to run out of it.

Post- play anything wasn't something Tom had ever been interested in. Once he 'got his,' Tom usually left. But this time, not only had he not relieved himself, but he also didn't find himself minding the weight of Harry's lean body on his. How curious?

Bracing one hand against Harry back (he had a feeling the boy didn't have full control of his body just yet) and used the other one to cup his face.

The boys face was coated in a fine sheen of sweat and his eyes were half-lidded. Tom could make out the bright green as Harry's eyes gazed unfocusedly back at him. He looked so lethargic, like he was going to fall asleep any minute. Smirking to himself, he traced his thumb around the shape of Harry's lips, enjoying the soft texture and-

Tom hissed as Harry bit down on his thumb, pulling it out of the stubborn set of teeth and tacking a step back from the little beast.

Harry, never one to miss an opportunity for an escape, took advantage of Tom's shock and pushed himself of the table and ran (more like stumbled because his legs still felt like jelly) towards Tom's office door.

"Harry," against his better sense Harry turned around and was pleased with the sight of his tormenter sucking the tip of this thumb. From the metallic taste in his mouth, Harry knew his finger was bleeding and he smiled defiantly.

"Leave now if you wish, but we will be meeting again. Very soon." The words were dark and Tom's countenance was stormy. Harry would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't slightly (only slightly) worried by the ominous threat.

But that didn't prevent him from the flipping Tom the bird before fleeing his office.

'How delightful,' Tom mused still nursing his still bleeding thumb. 'The little vampire.'

Oh well. Like he told Harry, he'd be seeing him again and sooner rather than later. They had much to discuss, and even more to do, he and Harry.

Rather by the force of Tom's will, or the devotion of Harry's heart for his friend, Tom was going to make sure that their paths crossed again. And when they did…well- he looked down at his straining erection, things were finally going to get interesting.

Yay another chapter!

Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments! Im glad you guys are enjoying yourselves. I know some people were kinda upset about the shortness of the last chapter AND that horrible cliffy hanger hahah so I took mercy on you.

But just so you know, I LOVE ending a chapter at the worst possible moment. Its just my thing, especially at weird moments. I also wanna want you guys to keep in mind that I'm trying to be as close to potryaing a true BDSM relationship as possible. So that means there are going to be 'slow' chapters were we have a lot of explanation and little action. Understanding comes from the mindset of 'why' an action takes place, instead on just focusing the action itself. If all I did was write just about Tom and Harry's encounters, this story would be pure smut, and that's NOT what I'm going for. As much as I love me some smut ^_^

Bottom line, I want my story to grow and develop as natrually as possible. I want my characters to do the same. And I want to give anyone who reads this a journey that they can take with Tom and Harry, because I'm on a journey writing it.

Thornesedge: Hi! I'm glad you excited! Ummm actually I can't say that I have. I've never seen one with Harry as anything but the sub. There is a really good one on called Willpower. Its SS/HP but the content is amazing!

Qazol:Omg this made me tear up, the part about it reading like a film, because I actually want to be a screenwriter. Lots to improve, but thanks dude!

Next Chapter: Calm before the storm, and Tom Riddle makes a surprise apperence!