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There is only silence around Harry, silence and darkness where he is tied to the bed, Draco’s spells having taken his senses and leaving him blind and deaf, and defenceless. His arms are stretched high above his head, the rope rubbing against his wrists where they are tied to the headboard. At some point a low ache has started to spread through Harry’s shoulders, but the feeling is drowned out by all the other sensations against his body.
With his other senses gone, it is all he could focus on. The feeling of the sheets under his spread knees, the soft fabric against his face where it is pressed into the mattress. The pull of the ropes that keep his legs in their spread position, his arse high up in the air. And the sensation of relentless thrusts into his loose hole, hands gripping his hips tight to pull him further onto that hard cock.
Harry isn’t entirely sure who it is, having been in this position for so long he has lost all sense of time, but he thinks it’s Blaise. Thinks he recognises the way the thrusts are becoming frantic, losing control, the way the hands feel on his oversensitive skin. Even when they fuck, it takes a lot for Draco to lose his control. But Blaise always let’s himself go so beautifully when he takes Harry
He is so exhausted. Harry has lost count of how many times he’s been fucked today. His cock seems to have lost the ability to get hard anymore, after hours of being taken like this. He doesn’t know how many times he’s come with each assault on his prostate, with how hard he gets every time he’s used like this, but he doesn’t think he can come again. He’s wrung out.
This isn’t about Harry’s pleasure though, not right now. This was about Blaise and Draco getting to use him whenever they want, how much they want. All he has to do is take it.
Harry can’t even move anymore as Blaise keeps pounding into him. He is so tired. And yet, he can’t help the desperate needy little whimpers at the back of his throat, whimpers Harry can't hear himself but knows are escaping him anyway. If he hadn’t come so many times already today, he knows he’d be rock hard right now.
When the thrusts behind him are starting to become frantic, one hand leaves its vice-like grip on his hip and instead winds into his hair, harshly pulling his head up and off the mattress. Harry groans at the sharp pain in his sculp but can’t do anything but take it, let it happen, let himself be used.
He knows Blaise is about to finish, can recognise the tell-tale signs in the way the body above him is shaking, the hands on his hip and hair tightening impossibly.
After a few more hard thrusts, Blaise buries himself to the hilt, balls slapping against Harry’s abused arse, and unloads himself deep inside with small rocks of his hips. Harry can feel the hot fluid shooting into him, Blaise’s entire body tensing under his orgasm.
It is such an odd experience to feel someone fuck you, feel someone orgasm hard, and yet not hear a single sound. Not the usual slapping of skin, not the moans and groans, or the wet noises of a cock sliding in and out of his stretched rim.
Instead, every physical sensation feels heightened, the pulsing of his abused hole around the hard length, the slide of the cock against his burning ring of muscles. Every drag over his abused prostate sends shivers down his spine, every brush of a hand against Harry’s body has him flinching, not being able to anticipate, to hear or see it coming.
When Blaise is done, he pulls out and Harry can't help but clench around the emptiness. He feels hot cum dripping out of his hole and quick fingers start pushing it back into him. Then, there is the cold metal of a plug being pressed against him. It slides in with little resistance and Harry can’t suppress a small whine as the weight settles into place, keeping all the cum inside him.
With a little pat on Harry’s hip, the mattress behind him dips one last time as Blaise’s weight disappears and Harry is alone again. It had been like this all day, Draco and Blaise coming in to fuck him whenever they wanted. No pattern, no way of knowing how long he’s been here, or how much time has passed between each of their visits.
It had been Draco’s idea (of course). The man never fails to surprise them with his creativity when it came to playing with Harry.
When he’d come home from his walk this morning, Blaise and Draco had been waiting for him in their living room. The second Harry had walked in, he’d known they had something planned, the little smirk around Draco’s lips a dead giveaway. They had led him upstairs, stripped him naked, and then Draco had pulled out his wand and cast those spells, leaving Harry disoriented and on edge, completely at their mercy.
They had talked about this before, Harry admitting his little fantasy of being used as a sex toy, being tied down and forced to take whatever they gave him, whenever they wanted. But enough time had passed since that Harry had almost forgotten about it. Until this morning.
Now, Harry is shaking with exhaustion where he is tied in place, his legs barely holding him up anymore. But the ropes are preventing him from slumping down onto the mattress, forcing him to hold position. At one point, one of them had gently held a glass of water to his lips, but it feels like that had been hours ago.
After Blaise leaves, Harry doesn’t know how much time passes with him left alone like this, in darkness and silence. All he knows is the tightness of the ropes that hold his wrists together, the burning of his stretched out, abused hole, the weight of the plug that sits heavily inside him. He can feel the sweat on his back turning cold as it dries and shivers a little.
For a while, Harry let’s his mind go wonderfully blank, sinks deep into this floating feeling where he doesn’t need to do anything. He isn’t exactly dosing, but he isn’t entirely there either. His breathing becomes calm and steady, his blind eyes shut, and he lets his tired muscles rest as much as he can in his position. All he is, all he has to be, is a good little whore, taking what his two partners gave him. In this floating state, there is nothing else.
When after what feels like an eternity a hand touches his back, Harry flinches. It is hard to bring his muddled brain back into the present. All he knows is that someone is back in the room with him, warm hands rubbing soothing circles into his cold skin. Harry hums sleepily, craving this gentle touch, whosever it is.
After a little while, those hands wander down towards his arse, and fingers carefully take hold of the plug’s base. Slowly, the plug is being pulled out, Harry’s body clenching when its gone, a quiet whimper at the back of his throat. Harry has been filled with a plug or cock all day, and this sudden sensation of being left empty is entirely foreign to him at this point.
He can feel the mix of both their cum dripping out of him, can feel the wetness running down his thighs. For a moment, those hands rub the sticky substance into his skin, as if to leave a permanent mark on him, before leaving him entirely.
Then, Harry feels tugging at the ropes around his legs. Gentle hands open the knots and pulling the ropes from around his ankles and thighs until his legs are free to move again. Without the tension of his bonds holding him up, Harry collapses onto the bed, a small sigh of relieve escaping him.
His legs ache after so long in the same position, his knees and hips finally stretching out again. Those same gentle hands begin rubbing feeling back into his legs, messaging the quivering muscles in his thighs and calves as blood painfully shoots back into his limbs. Harry is caught somewhere between a moan and a whimper as both pain and relief mix at the sensation.
Harry is so distracted by the wonderful feeling, that he jolts when a second pair of hands tug at the bonds around his wrists until those too fall away. Then, he is being rolled over onto his back and pulled up into a seated position. A warm body slides in behind him and pulls him against a firm chest.
Harry is so tired, all he can do is sink into those arms and let all those hands run over his oversensitive skin. He feels kisses being peppered down his naked shoulder, and the brush of soft silken hair against his neck tells him it must be Draco behind him.
He thinks maybe this is it, that they are done. Harry wants to rest, for Blaise and Draco to hold him. Draco behind him rubs soothing hands up and down his aching arms, now that he finally has them down from the uncomfortable stretch they’d been in. Harry is too far gone to wonder if they will take the spells off, when he will regain his senses. All he knows right now is that he’ll take whatever they give him. He is floating.
Then the hands on his legs, Blaise’s hands, slowly wander up. For a moment they are on his thighs, doing nothing but rubbing his skin soothingly. But then there’s a light pressure of those hands until he spreads his legs for them. Harry doesn’t have time to think about what might come next before one hand presses firmly on his thigh to keep his legs apart and the other wraps around his soft cock.
Harry lets out a desperate little whimper as he tries to squirm away from the touch, shaking his head. He doesn’t know if can take more, has come too many times already. Everything is hurting and oversensitive, every touch feeling like sweet torture. But Blaise and Draco won’t let him move. Draco's hands on his arms stop their stroking and instead close around them to hold him still.
In the silence, Harry doesn’t know if his voice actually comes out, doesn’t know if he is too horse to actually speak, but he lets out a string of pleads for them to stop.
Blaise’s hand around his cock disappears, though the firm grip on his arms doesn’t ease up.
When suddenly sounds are reaching his ears again, Harry flinches against the chest behind him. For a moment he is so overwhelmed by the unexpected return of noise, that it is all he could focus on. The rustling of the sheets below him, the quiet breaths beside his ear of the man holding him, the general sound of moving bodies around him. There are soothing little noises being murmured from behind him, praises and shooshing noises from Draco.
“You’ve been so good for us.” Blaise praises from where he is kneeling between Harry’s legs, hands rubbing soothingly over his skin.
“Do you remember your word?”, Draco murmurs into his ear.
It takes Harry a moment to sort out his thoughts, to answer. “Yes, Sir.” His voice is quiet and a little rough, and he has to swallow hard against his parched throat.
“You know you can use it at any time.” Draco’s voice is soft, a gentle reminder, and Harry can hear the caring undertone. He just nods desperately where he is held between them, another little whimper escaping him.
There is a little pause, in which Draco just keeps his steady grasp around his arms, and Blaise’s hands rest on his thighs. Harry knows they are waiting for him, giving him a moment in case he wants to safe-word.
When he doesn’t, Blaise’s hand slowly returns to his flaccid cock, wrapping around him yet again, and applies pressure on his aching soft flesh.
“Such a good pet, you’ve been taking us so well all day,” Blaise deep voice praises him, as his hand slowly begins to stroke him. It almost hurts, and Harry whines at the sweet torture.
“Please, I can’t...” He begs weakly.
“Shhh...” Draco soothes him. “You can take one more time, we know you can do it for us.”
Harry sobs, finally able to hear his own noises, as he nods helplessly. He can’t help his moan at the attention on his cock after being ignored and untouched most of the day. He feels blood rushing down, his cock against all odds hardening again. Harry can’t believe he is still able to get hard after hours of being fucked, and yet he is getting more and more aroused with each stroke of Blaise’s hand.
“Such a good pet,” Blaise says, his hand never stopping in its movement until he has stroked Harry to full hardness. “Look at that. You love being used by us, don’t you? Such a needy little cock.”
Harry’s face is burning with humiliation, he wants to tell them that he can’t help it, that this is out of his control. But all that leaves his mouth were little whimpers and moans as Blaise plays with his prick. And Blaise knows he is right, Harry loves this.
It is a relieve when finally, that hand disappears from his oversensitive length and instead wraps around his hips. “Up you go, pet,” Blaise instructs and starts pulling his hips, lifting him.
Harry can’t do anything but let them move him however they want, a pliant toy in their hands. As Blaise lifts him, Draco slides in underneath him, his hands never letting go of the firm grip around Harry’s arms. They tug and pull until Harry is lying on top of Draco, back pressed against his chest. He can feel Draco’s hard cock rub between his cheeks and a shiver runs up his spine when the hardness brushes over his swollen entrance.
Then his legs are lifted up and spread wide, practically folding him in half, until Harry is all exposed for Blaise. Draco’s hands leave his arms and instead wrap around under his knees to replace Blaise’s hands, holding him open. There are fingers pressing and probing at his loose, slick hole and when one slips inside, Harry can’t help but squeeze around it with a quiet moan.
“Such a needy little hole. So open and ready for us. Look how wet you are with all our cum dripping out of you,” Blaise hums. Slowly, he adds another finger, and then another. Harry can barely feel the stretch, as loose as he is. And yet it burns, with how swollen and raw his puckered hole is.
Yielding to those hands, Harry lets his head fall back against Draco’s shoulder, hands fisting into the sheets beside them.
Then the fingers inside him disappear and he feels his lower half being lifted up and pulled back down until Draco’s cock is nudging his dripping entrance. When Blaise guides him down, the tip of Draco’s hard length breaches the ring of muscles and slowly sinks into him. Harry hisses at the pain, sore after being used all day, and Draco groans as he bottoms out.
Harry closes his eyes, unseeing as they are, and simply lets Draco begin to pump into him slowly and steadily as he is held in place by Draco’s firm grip and Blaise’s hands guiding him along with Draco’s thrusts. Even though he can’t see, Harry knows Blaise is watching where Draco’s cock is sliding in and out of him, knows he will be hard at the display. His own cock is heavy and hard against his stomach where it lies forgotten and untouched.
When Draco brushes over his prostate, Harry begins moaning. The sensation is too much, he is too oversensitive, and yet he can’t decide if he wants it to stop, or needs more. Every drag along that most sensitive bundle of nerves sends pleasure into his own cock until it is so impossibly hard Harry feels like it might burst.
Suddenly, he feels a new pressure alongside Draco’s cock. Blaise's hands have returned to his entrance, and one finger is slowly pressing in with Draco’s hard length. Harry whimpers pathetically at the sensation, his hands tightening where they are fisted into the sheets. Then there is more pressure, a second finger, pushing into him with each of Draco’s thrusts. Harry can’t stop any of the desperate noises that are leaving him when the pressure increases with each second, when he feels his entrance being stretched impossibly wide.
“Do you think he can take both of us?” Draco asks underneath him, panting heavily against his ear. Harry’s eyes fly open with a sharp intake of air.
“What do you think, pet? You can, can’t you? Look at you, so open and stretched for us.”
Harry doesn’t have words, can only shake his head with a pitiful whine that is somewhere between desperation and need. Draco stills beneath him, his cock buried deep in his channel.
“Oh I think you can. I know you can be so good for us,” Blaise says.
“Yes,” Harry whimpers. ““I want to be good.”
“We know you do,” Draco hums into his ear.
There is some shuffling as Blaise moves closer between Draco’s spread legs and positions himself at Harrys entrance. “Relax for me, pet,” Blaise murmurs.
Then, Harry feels the impossible stretch of the blunt tip of a second cock pressing in, sliding along Draco’s and nearly splitting him in half. A sob escapes him as Harry does his best to relax, to open up and let Blaise in. It takes some time and a lot of slow rocking from Blaise before he makes it past the impossibly tight ring of Harry’s muscles and the head of his cock slides in.
“ Oh god... ”, Harry moans when Blaise finally sinks in, inch by bloody inch, until he can go no further. Draco lets out a guttural groan at the increasing tightness of Harry’s channel around both their cocks, at the friction of Blaise’s cock sliding along his own.
When Blaise stops moving, Harry lets out a shaky breath, sweat beading on his forehead and neck. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this full, the burn of the stretch painful and yet overwhelmingly good. For a few seconds nobody moves, giving Harry a moment to adjust to them.
Then Blaise slowly pulls out all the way to his tip, only to thrust back in. Draco begins to move again as well, matching Blaise’s movements as both of them thrust into Harry.
There are hands on him, guiding him to meet each of their thrusts, pulling him onto their cocks as far as his body allows. It doesn’t take long for Harry to start trembling, the sweet torture of this endless burning stretch, the wet noises from where he is breached open by these two men.
“You are such a good boy, you feel so good the way your tight hole is gripping us.” Draco grunts in his ear.
The praise goes straight to Harry’s cock, and a moan is ripped from him as their pace starts to pick up. Harry can feel precum dripping onto his stomach.
“You look so beautiful like this, pet. Stuffed full with our cocks,” Blaise pants between thrusts.
Harry can’t do anything but take it, too overwhelmed and too exhausted to do anything but hold onto the sheets. Draco’s firm hands on his legs the only thing holding him in place, Harry’s entire body rocks with each snap of their hips. His muscles are pulsing around them, gripping both cocks tightly where they thrust into him again and again.
Harry is barely aware of the noises that are falling from his mouth, unintelligible pleads that make no sense even to himself.
Then, there is a hand around his cock (Blaise’s, he thinks) and begins to pump in the rhythm of their heavy thrusts. It doesn’t take long for Harry to start shaking, pitiful noises leaving him.
“Please please please,” Harry sobs. “I can’t... I... pleaseee .”
“Tell us what you want, Harry,” Draco grunts into his ear, his breathing becoming heavy.
“ Please , I want to come. I need to come so badly. Please let me come,” Harry begs desperately, his balls drawing up tight.
“You are doing so well, pet. You can come whenever you want.” Blaise’s hand never leaves his oversensitive cock, a thumb circling around the head before he picks up his pumping again.
The stretch of both of them, the friction against his abused prostate, the pressure around his own cock... it was all too much. When Blaise twists his wrist, Harry let’s out a desperate scream and his orgasm rips through him, white lights dancing in the darkness of his sightless eyes. In hot spurts, Harry comes all over his stomach and Blaise’s hand, the sticky fluid covering his skin.
He feels himself clench and pulse around both cocks, their thrusting never stopping as Harry rides out his orgasm. Harry is sure he can feel a few tears dripping down his cheeks, too overwhelmed by all these sensations.
When Harry comes down, he is still being pounded into, Blaise's hand having disappeared from his spent cock and instead gripping his hips tightly. Both men are panting and moaning, their thrusts having lost their rhythm as they became faster and faster. His entirely body has become boneless, rocking with each of their movements, and he lets it happen, takes every thrust they give him.
Draco comes next, his hands tightened around Harry’s legs, his body tensing up beneath him. Draco's movements halt once he buries his cock far up Harry’s arse a final time, and Harry can feel his orgasm working its way through the body underneath him.
There is a wet noise when Draco’s cum makes Blaise's thrusts even easier where he keeps pumping into him. The occasional groan makes its way past Harry’s ear as Blaise's cock rubes along Draco’s softening prick.
Then, finally, Blaise comes to a stuttering halt, plunging in to the hilt before spilling his release into Harry. With a loud moan, Blaise collapses on top of them, driving the ait from Harry’s lungs before he catches himself and takes the weight somewhat off Harry’s chest.
Draco lets go of Harry’s legs, which drop down on each side of Blaise’s hips like a dead weight, and Harry unclenches his hands from around the sheets to bring them up around Blaise’s shoulders. They stay like this for a little while, Blaise resting his head against Harry’s chest, each trying to regain their breath.
Blaise presses a tender kiss to Harry’s lips before he slowly pulls out and helping Harry off Draco’s softened cock. It’s an odd sensation when cold air hits his wet abused entrance, but Harry sighs a little nonetheless. As much as he loved every second of today, he is done.
Draco gently rolls them both onto their side before curling around Harry’s back and enveloping him into a tight embrace. Harry faintly hears Blaise murmur a spell and then the mattress dips in front of him, the warmth of Blaise closing in to wrap his arms around Harry’s and Draco’s waist. Harry is left encased between both their bodies, where he is gently held and stroked.
When Harry blinks his eyes open, he is met with the sight of Blaise’s face in front of his own, a sated smile tugging around those beautiful lips.
“There you are, my love,” Blaise says with a smile, meeting Harry’s tired eyes. “You’ve done so well today. You were so good for us.” Harry hums at the praise, a tired smile of his own grazing his lips when Blaise brushes a kiss over his forehead before pulling them both closer. Harry buries his face against Blaise’s chest, Draco’s arms holding him tight, and lets out more satisfied noises.
He can't help a little wrinkle of his nose though, when he feels their fluids seeping out of him, his own cum still covering his stomach. He feels sweaty, and used, and sticky, but Harry isn’t sure if he could move a single muscle if he wanted to.
When he says so, Draco chuckles before reaching for his wand and casts a series of cleansing charms on them all. That felt much better.
Draco soon settles back in behind him, his strong arms firmly wrapping back around his waist, and for a long time they just lie there. Both men holding him, soft hands stroking his side, knowing this is what he needs. The silence is only interrupted by murmured praises and soothing noises, that send warm shivers down his spine, and Harry is content to fall asleep right then and there.
When he’s just about to slip away, Blaise stirs against him, brushing his lips across Harry’s before pushing up on one elbow.
“Can you sit up for me, darling? You need to drink something,” he says.
Harry doesn’t want to move, never wants to move again in fact, and he makes an unhappy noise to show it. But Blaise is right. His throat is absolutely parched. Reluctantly, Harry pushes up into a sitting position, Draco behind him helping him with a firm arm. Blaise presses a glass of water that must have been waiting on the nightstand into his hands, and once Harry takes the first sip, he doesn’t stop until the entire glass is drained.
Draco rubs his back in comforting little circles from where he is still behind him, wrapped around where Harry is sitting on the bed.
“Are you hungry, my love?”, Draco asks, his silver eyes warm as he gazes up at Harry.
And it wasn’t until Draco asked him that Harry realises, yes, he is. He’s been so out of it for the last hour or two that he hadn’t even realised the small empty pit that his stomach has become. Now that he noticed though, his stomach grumbles, loudly, and Harry gives a sheepish little nod.
“Of course you are, we’ve kept you here half the day,” Blaise chuckles. “I’ll go get you something.”
With that, Blaise pushes off the bed and grabs a long silken robe on his way out.
With a content smile, Harry drops back onto the mattress and Draco pulls him flush against his chest, where he holds and strokes him.
“What time is it?”, Harry murmurs against Draco’s skin. He can’t see the clock from this position, nor does he want to open his eyes or move.
“Just about three in the afternoon,” Draco replies, and then chuckles at Harry’s little groan. They had kept him like this for nearly five hours.
“You did so so well, Harry. You were perfect. Are you all right?”, Draco asks.
Harry nods quickly to reassure them. “More than all right.”
A hand under his chin has him tip up his head for Draco to kiss him, and it is so sweet an tender that Harry melts right into him.
When Blaise returns some time later he carries a huge plate filled with sandwiches and snacks.
They spend the rest of the day in bed, lazing the day away. It doesn’t take long for Harry to fall asleep, entirely knocked out. He is sore, every muscle in his body aching and not an ounce of energy left. When Harry wakes up Draco is still beside him reading a book in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He can hear Blaise rummaging around somewhere in the house.
Harry smiles as he rolls over and wriggles his way into Draco’s arm where he can lay his head onto his chest. There is a chaste little kiss pressed into his hair before Draco resumed to read, an arm tightening around Harry's shoulder.