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Draco slammed into the wall, the impact forcing the air from his lungs. He barely had time to catch his breath before Harry grabbed him, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall. He knew he shouldn't struggle, shouldn't resist. Harry liked it too much. But he couldn't help it.
"You dare tell me no?" Harry's voice was dangerously low. Draco fought the urge to panic as the collar he wore tightened, just like it always did when he disobeyed.
"I saved your sorry arse from the fiendfyre," Harry hissed. "I saved your pathetic excuse of a family from Voldemort. I kept you out of Azkaban! And this is how you repay me?"
The collar squeezed a little tighter with each furious declaration. Draco grabbed at the cold metal of the choker in a reflexive attempt to keep it from strangling him, but it was useless. He knew from experience that there was no way to remove it and only one way to make it stop. Submit. "I'm sorry," he gasped.
Harry took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. The collar loosened. "Say. It."
"You own me." A shudder ran through his body when he said it. He hated that it was the truth, and Harry knew that he hated it. That was why Harry made him say it over and over again. It never got any easier.
"And?" Harry prompted.
Draco forced the rest out through clenched teeth, "You can use me however you see fit."
"Yes, I can."
Draco cried out as Harry thrust into him. It didn't matter if he was ready or not. It was miracle Harry even bothered with a lubrication charm. He should have been used to it, but it was still a shock.
"And this," Harry grunted, working himself deeper, "is the only thing you're fit for."
Draco didn't argue. Arguing only lead to worse punishments. Besides, a small part of him believed Harry. He had been somebody once, but that was before the war. Now he was worse than nobody. He was a slave, forced to submit to Harry's twisted desires.
"Admit it, Draco," Harry panted. "You're nothing."
"Not true," he said, and the collar instantly constricted.
Harry stopped, buried as deep as he could get. "Isn't it?"
His lungs burned with the need for air. His vision went grey. He was going to pass out and Merlin only knew what Harry would do to him then, so he said the only thing he could mange, "Yours."
It took several agonizing seconds for Harry to respond and for the collar to go slack. Draco took a deep, gulping breath, filling his starving lungs with air. "That's right," Harry whispered, "mine to fuck." Then he started thrusting again, hard and deep, driving his point home with the full force of his body.
Pain and pleasure. His life was balanced on the edge of a knife, and which way it tilted depended upon the whim of a mad saviour. Draco hated that his body responded to Harry. He hated that he couldn't stifle the gasps and groans Harry forced from him, no matter how hard he tried. But most of all he hated that he always ended up begging.
"You don't get to come. Understand?"
Draco nodded, then gasped a 'yes' when the collar tightened in warning. Harry fisted his cock, squeezing and stroking it. It was a test. One that was designed to make him fail. Harry knew just how much he could withstand and would drive him right to the edge only to stop and then start the process all over again.
"You're such a whore," Harry whispered in his ear. "I wonder what your father would say if he could see you right now? Should I tell him how hard it makes you when I shove my dick up your arse? Or how you moan and whimper and beg me to let you come?"
He tried not to listen, tried not to believe that Harry would go through with his threat, but the image of his father's cold, disapproving stare was far too easy to imagine. "No. No, please."
"Then beg me," Harry said. "Beg me like the whore you are."
Draco shook his head defiantly, fully expecting the collar to suffocate him. At least then Harry couldn't humiliate him any further. "I won't."
"Of course you will." Harry's hand went still. "You always do."
"Please," Draco sobbed in frustration. "Please, Harry. Merlin. I need to come, Please."
"See?" Harry sneered, "You can't help it."
It was a game Draco would never win.
Harry resumed stroking him, whispering in his ear, "You don't deserve to come. You don't deserve to live. You better hope I never get tired of fucking your tight arse because it's the only reason you're still alive...."
The pressure built until Draco throbbed with need. Sweat drenched his body. Every muscle in his body was trembling. He was panting, gasping, barely able to draw enough breath to stay conscious between the effort of holding back and the snug grip of the collar.
"Don't come. Don't you dare fucking come," Harry warned. "I bloody told you not to come." But even as he said it, Harry shifted, changing the angle at which he was thrusting.
There was no way he could last, not now that Harry had redoubled his efforts. Stars exploded behind his eyelids and he let out a strangled cry, which was abruptly cut off as the collar constricted. His body convulsed with the combined force of his release and the need to draw in air. He felt Harry shudder behind him, and then the world went black.