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Summary
18-year-old Tom Riddle enters a sexual contract with 48-year-old Healer Harry Potter. In exchange for mentorship and covered living costs, Tom has sex according to Harry's preferences.
Mind the tags!
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Summary
Tom looked down.
Tom froze.
Tom screeched.
“That’s a limb!” he shrieked. “That’s a creature! THAT’S A MINOTAUR’S ARM IN YOUR PANTS!”
Hadrian muttered, “Told you.”
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This is the first time Tom has let Harry rut properly in years. Usually he has him on blockers most of the year and potion-induced sleep the rest. They agreed it that way. Tom has different liberties, of course, but that’s because they both know Harry likes his body being used for something it isn’t made for.
This time, however, there is no sweaty, grimacing Harry trapped in magical sleep under self-cooling bed sheets, as much as Tom loves seeing him vulnerable like that. This time, Tom is curious.
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Tom Riddle can't become a Dark Lord if he's just a dumb little slut for Harry to use all day.
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Harry didn’t raise his head. He didn’t need to. The collective gasp – no, the scream – of hundreds of students tore through the chamber.
A chill swept into the room like a living thing.
And even without looking, Harry knew with absolute certainty who had entered.
Lord Voldemort was in Hogwarts.
