Harry Potter had been abused his whole life. It had started when he was only one year old. Baby Harry had been dropped on the doorstep of two people who absolutely despised him. The abuse had started small, but gradually grew into little less than slavery. Young Harry was the Dursley’s own personal butler. Harry was in charge of cooking, cleaning, gardening, taking out the trash, and any other odd job the Dursleys requested of him. Harry couldn’t remember when it started; he’d been The Dursley’s slave for so long. Harry was lucky the family even let him attend school.
Harry’s life was bleak. On top of all the chores, he also had to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs and was punished for his ‘freakishness’ almost daily, not that Harry really understood that. All he knew was that strange things always happened around him and he was punished when they did.
The only thing Harry had ever been thankful for was his milk. Harry remembered the day when he’d first drunk what his uncle called his ‘special milk’. It was a week after Harry had dropped a full glass of milk on the floor because his cousin Dudley had tripped him. Being able to drink milk used to be extremely rare for him. Harry was only given a glass of milk, or any other delicacy, if he did an exceptional job with his chores, and then only if his relatives were in a good mood. Suffice it to say he only drank milk a few times a year. So when Dudley had tripped him, he’d forced Harry to waste one of his favorite treats. And Vernon wasn’t too happy either. Harry had wasted his milk. His uncle always told Harry how costly it was to keep him around and no amount of choirs could ever make up for how much he was losing. By wasting the milk, he had wasted his uncle’s money. He was beaten within an inch of his life that night.
But something amazing happened a week later. His uncle had brought home a gallon of milk and he’d said, plain as day, that it was Harry’s. Harry was as suspicious as his cousin was jealous. Harry tried to ask his uncle why he’d bought him milk. His uncle just told him that it was special milk and drinking it was Harry’s punishment for wasting the milk the week prior. That day Uncle Vernon poured harry a tall glass of the special milk. He smirked in his seat at the kitchen table as he waited for the boy to drink it.
To be honest Harry was scared to drink the milk. It didn’t exactly look like any milk Harry had ever seen. This milk was thicker, goopy even. It was not as white as the milk he was used to seeing. Harry remembered his first taste of the special milk. It had been so good. It was better than anything Harry had ever drunk, far better than the milk he’d had for a treat so rarely. Harry couldn’t help but drink the milk down quickly. When he’d finished he felt happy and energetic. It was as if he’d just drunk the most nutritious concoction on the market. Like it was full of vitamins and minerals. Harry felt almost healthy for the first time in so long. The boy licked his lips as he wished he’d savored the drink more.
Harry noticed his uncle watching him. Harry couldn’t understand the look on the man’s face. It was one part surprise and one part disgust. Harry couldn’t understand why. His uncle asked if he wanted more. Harry was the one surprised now. His uncle was giving him more of the delicious milk? What had he done to deserve it? Harry nodded his head eagerly and Uncle Vernon poured Harry another cup. Harry drank the milk slowly this time. His milk was so good.
His uncle continued to watch him with an odd look on his face. “Freak,” was all he said before putting the special milk in the fridge.
When Harry was a little older, and had been drinking his special milk for a long time, his uncle said something that completely destroyed everything. It was the middle of the night when his uncle had knocked on the door to his cupboard and dragged him out. Uncle Vernon asked him if he wanted his special milk. Harry said he did. His uncle pulled out his penis and began stroking it. When Harry asked the man what he was doing, his uncle replied, “Giving you what you asked for, freak.” That’s when his uncle came on his face for the first time.
Harry was surprised and hadn’t understood what had just happened. He wiped some of the substance off his cheek with a finger and looked at it. It was his special milk. He was confused. That night Uncle Vernon brutally explained that the milk that Harry loved so much was actually cum. Then he explained what cum was.
Uncle Vernon pulled Harry into the kitchen, poured the boy a glass of his special milk and asked Harry if he still wanted it. Harry was ashamed as he reached for the glass. He couldn’t help it; his milk was just so good. He couldn’t live without it anymore. Harry cried as he drank down the milk.
Ever since he found out what his ‘special milk’ really was, Harry had lived deeply ashamed. Guilt and embarrassment had become his main emotions. He wished he could just stop drinking it, but he couldn’t. It tasted so good, kind of bitter and globby; it was a little sticky too. Harry’s never allowed candy, but he imagined it tasted like that. Every time his aunt and cousin were in another room while he’s drinking his milk, his uncle would always humiliate him. He tells him he’s a ‘worthless piece of shit’, a ‘whore for cum’, and that if he likes cum so much he should have been born a little girl instead.
The humiliation didn’t stop there. One day his uncle came to his cupboard late at night and took out a pair of little girl panties. His uncle told him to take off his clothes and put on the panties. He did and his uncle took out his cock and told him to suck. Harry had to suck uncle Vernon’s cock at least once a week if he wanted to continue getting his special milk every day. While Harry went to work on his uncle’s cock, Vernon took pictures of him.
Harry knew what was happening to him. He’d learned what the no-no places were and what bad-touch meant. They talked about it in health class sometimes. He also knew that if anyone ever touched him in those places or made Harry touch them in those places, he needed to tell someone. The only problem was, Harry didn’t want to stop drinking his special milk. He knew if he told someone about the sexual abuse he faced, then he would no longer be able to drink the milk. Just the act of drinking his special milk was sexual abuse. He knew that. The only thing Harry could do was listen to his uncle and do what he said.
A few weeks later, uncle Vernon brought an entire bag full of panties to Harry’s cupboard and told Harry to wear a different one each day under his clothes instead of his regular underwear. Uncle Vernon confiscated every pair of briefs Harry had, which wasn’t many, and threw them in the trash. Harry looked through the bag. Some of the panties were regular panties made for a girl, but others were more adult, but made to fit him. There were ones with lace and ribbons and some were even thongs. They came in all colors, though most were pink, red, or black. Harry knew not to go against his uncle. He wore girl’s panties from that day forward.
It wasn’t just the panties either. Sometimes his uncle would take him with him on ‘business trips’. He told aunt Petunia that he needed to bring Harry along to carry his luggage, which was only partially true. While Harry did carry his uncle’s luggage, that’s not why he was there. His uncle would bring him to a hotel room where there were a few other men, and undress him in front of them. Some of them laughed when they saw his pink lacey panties, while others licked their lips. All of them stroked their cocks. Once, someone put red lipstick on him, and another person took the lipstick and wrote the word ‘SISSY’ on his chest. They all took turns writing words and drawing pictures on him. They laughed and stroked themselves as they wrote all over him. Someone even drew a penis on his back. Then they told him to ‘suck them off’ which was one of the first things Harry understood. He got on his knees and sucked off every man in the room and drank each of their ‘milk’ until he was full. He didn’t like putting his mouth on stranger’s penises, but his uncle had this look in his eyes that said he would be punished if he didn’t. After that, someone asked if they could ‘fuck’ him and harry wished he knew what that meant, because his uncle laughed and said no, and explained that Harry was too young and that he would probably tear. When it was over, each man gave his uncle some money and left. Harry had been on five business trips so far and the only good thing about them is that Harry gets to drink a lot of milk those nights.
That morning of his tenth birthday, his uncle had told his aunt that there was another business trip he had to attend and he wouldn’t be home that night. The whole day Harry wasn’t allowed any milk, but he knew he was going to get plenty later. He was worried more about what he was going to have to do for it.
Shortly after dinner Harry and his Uncle left on the ‘business trip’. But this time his uncle decided to allow his son to tag along, even asked him if he wanted to come. Dudley had no idea that this was no ordinary business trip, but agreed immediately; anything to feel more mature.
His uncle and cousin were dressed very nicely in what looked like their most expensive suits. Harry remained in his cousin’s old castoffs. An hour later they arrived at their destination, but it wasn’t a hotel this time. They parked outside a rather large mansion estate. His uncle got out of the car, opened the door for his son, and roughly pulled Harry along. The door opened before his uncle could knock. Before them stood a man dressed in a simple black suit and bow-tie.
“Good evening, I am Benoit. I am Master Mickael’s butler. You must be Mr. Dursley, his son, and the…guest of honor?” The butler asked, stoically and with a thick French accent. “ID please.”
“Yes that’s right” said Uncle Vernon getting out his driver’s license.
Once the butler looked over the card, he passed it back to Harry’s uncle. “Follow me and I will show you to Master Mickael’s play chamber” Benoit said, leading them down a set of stairs to an underground steel door with a coded lock and fingerprint scanner. Benoit pressed a button on the wall and a speaker came to life. “Master Mickael, Mr. Dursley has arrived sir” He said into the microphone.
“Ah yes,” came a French accent from the speaker. “Did he bring the boy?”
“Yes sir”
“Let them in then” said the voice.
Benoit typed in a code and the lock made a clicking sound. He opened the large, heavy door and held the handle, head bowed, and motioned for them to go inside. Once inside the room, Benoit closed the door and Harry heard the lock click closed.
Harry looked around the room. It was a very big room with a fluffy white carpet and expensive looking furniture. Mickael sat, arms spread and legs crossed on a black leather couch. He was currently looking in their direction and smoking a cigar. There were no windows in the room, so the smoke had nowhere to go. It made the room look foggy, like Harry was in a dream. Harry looked more closely. The walls of the room were lined with…whips? Paddles? Were those chains? Harry saw many odd things that didn’t make sense to him. There was a very big wooden cross, but it wasn’t hanging on the wall. There were lit candles spread along the room, but the lights were also on, dimmed a little, but why would they need candles if there was electricity? They didn’t smell particularly pleasant. Harry also saw a big bed on the other side of the room. The ceiling had rafters which held pulleys where chains hug. But what Harry focused on was a desk with a cake on top. Harry knew not to hope, even if it was his birthday.
“I apologize for all the security. One must never be too careful these days, what with all the British police cracking down on the human trafficking circles and the pedophile dens. Soon I won’t be able to hold such nice parties here. At least in France the police are more lax about such nonsense”. Mickael said, taking a drag from his cigar.
Uncle Vernon just nodded.
“Is this the boy?” He said pointing to Harry.
Another nod.
“What a beauty he is! And so young too! Come here little boy”
Uncle Vernon shoved Harry away from him and closer toward the strange Frenchman. Harry slowly walked the rest of the way. He stood about two feet from the black couch.
“No, come here, sit on your Papa’s lap.” When Harry didn’t move, Mickael reached out and tugged Harry to him. He lifted him up and sat him down on the right thigh of the man’s very expensive pants. “How about Papa gives you some candy? You would like that, no?” Harry nodded his head enthusiastically. Maybe this man was actually very kind and was going to throw him a Birthday party. The man took out a big red lollipop from the pocket of his tailored coat. He unwrapped it and put it in his own mouth. He took it out. “Delicious. Here you go boy,” he said before plopping it into Harry’s mouth. Harry didn’t mind that the sweet had already been in the man’s mouth, or that the man kept blowing smoke in his face. He was eating a lollipop! A treat he had never been allowed before. And it was the best thing he had ever tasted. He looked around at his uncle and saw that his cousin was scowling at him for getting special treatment.
Mickael turned his head to look at them as well. “How old is he? The boy looks no older than eight,” he said motioning for them to sit on the couch opposite him and Harry.
“He’s ten today,” said his uncle.
“He’s so small and skinny. You haven’t been feeding him enough,” The man said with a knowing grin.
“The boy doesn’t deserve nearly what he does get.”
“And who’s that you brought with you?” The man said. He didn’t look at Dudley the same way he had looked at Harry. He looked at Harry with kindness and a little something else. He looked at Dudley like he was trying to hide his disgust. The favoritism almost made Harry laugh, though it also made him weary.
“This is my son Dudley. I believe it’s about time for him to learn what the little freak is good for. I want him to be able to use the boy when he wants as Dudley will be going through puberty soon,” Dudley sat proudly next to his father.
“So then you plan on declining the offer I made you a few months ago?” The strange man asked, offering Vernon a cigar.
“I’m still not sure,” said Uncle Vernon, taking it. Mickael held up a lit lighter to Uncle Vernon, and the man lit his cigar.
“Well even if you turned me down, we can always still meet up here like this every now and then for some well-paid for fun. I would very much like to train the child myself though…ah well”
They sat like that, talking for a while, Harry on Mickael’s lap and his uncle and cousin sitting across from them on the other black couch. When Harry had finished his lollipop, Mickael got up and put Harry down.
“I think we should get the boy dressed. The other guests should be arriving soon” said Mickael.
“Alright boy” said Uncle Vernon, addressing Harry. “You’re going to go with this man and do everything he says. If I hear that you were difficult you won’t like what happens”
Mickael led Harry to a door attached to the room while Uncle Vernon waited on the couch with Dudley. “Through here, little one” said the Frenchman, opening the door for the boy. Harry walked inside. It was a very spacious walk-in closet the size of Dudley’s second bedroom. Mickael told him to take off his clothes and Harry did. He was already used to taking off his clothes in front of strangers at his uncle’s other business trips. Harry noticed the man staring at him the whole time which was not unusual, but it did creep the boy out a little.
“Yes, you look very nice like that, but how about we add a few things” said the man looking through various outfits and accessories. “Yes, yes you simply must wear this one” Mickael said holding up a small g-string thong for Harry to see. It was pink and lacey with a small bow on the front…and it looked way too small.
“Umm, sir? Aren’t those girl’s panties? And I don’t think they’ll fit.” Did this man already know that Harry was always forced to wear woman’s underwear?
“Nonsense, these are just the thing for a little sissy to wear. Here step into them”
Harry let the man put the tiny panties on him, sliding them all the way up. Harry didn’t like the feel of the string going between his bum cheeks.
“There now this one is perfect. Your little penis is so itsy-bitsy that this tiny pouch of material is just able to cover it and your little baby balls. I knew I chose the right one.” The man said before looking for something else he could put on Harry. The Frenchman took a black leather collar with a pink name tag attached, off the wall and buckled it around Harry’s small neck. “Can you read what this says?” The man asked him, pointing to a word on the nametag.
Harry said the unfamiliar word. “Slut?“
“Slut, yes.” the man said. “Perfect no?” he said, not really expecting an answer.
Harry didn’t know what the word meant. His uncle had called him that before but Harry still didn’t really understand. Was it a bad word? Why was this man putting a collar on him that said a bad word on it? Why was he putting a collar on Harry at all? He wasn’t a dog.
Next Mickael took a small hair elastic with a bow attached and put it in Harry’s hair. It made a small side ponytail. The mad did the same thing to the other side of Harry’s head. Now the boy had two little pigtails with pink bows in his hair.
“That’s right, you look just like a precious little girl. Now let’s put some make-up on you.” The man put mascara, eyeliner, a little bit of blush, and bubblegum lipstick on Harry. “There we go my sweet little sissy slut. Let’s go see if your uncle likes it.”
Harry left the room with Mr. Mickael and walked with him over to where his uncle and cousin sat. Dudley started laughing immediately. His uncle just stared with an odd look in his eyes.
“He looks good no? I can see you think so too Mr. Dursley,” the man said, staring at Harry’s uncle’s crotch. “Why don’t you and me get him set up for the guests? Please, follow me to the table,” he said leading them all to the big wooden table in the center of the room. Mr. Mickael got a white tablecloth and he and Uncle Vernon arranged it over the table. He then lifted up Harry and placed him on the clothed table. He went to the far wall and brought back leather manacles and chains. He put the manacles on Harry’s wrists while his uncle put them on his ankles.
“Uncle Vern-“ Harry tried to say.
“HUSH!” his uncle reproached, tightening the leather cuff. The chains that were attached to the manacles where secured to each leg of the table. Harry ended up lying on his back on the table in a spread eagle position. Mickael got another object from the wall, a black ball gag. He put it on Harry and buckled it behind the boy’s head. Harry had no idea what it was, but he didn’t like it. It made his jaw hurt and he was drooling a little. Lastly, Mickael placed another sheet on the table, covering Harry entirely.
“Now we wait for the guests” said Mickael.
Finnian Siog 