Comin' Round the Mountain [Jul. 9th, 2004|12:47 pm] The Wizards' Summer Wankathon!

wizardwank

[ chazpure ]

Title: Comin' Round the Mountain

Author: Chastity Pureheart, chazpure

Rating: NC-17

Character: Lord Voldemort

Place/Object/Animal: At Malfoy Mansion, with a toy train and Nagini

Warnings: Dark Lord Wankage, elapine genitalia, quasi-bestiality, and gratuitous train set abuse

Notes: Some reference pages that proved very helpful – Warning! Explicit Photos of Snake Naughty Bits!



Determining The Sex of Snakes



Snake Reproduction













Lord Voldemort sat on Narcissa Malfoy's favorite cerise-satin upholstered divan and glared malevolently at the painted swans gliding aimlessly over their painted lake. He considered incinerating them, but decided that the brief pleasure their destruction might provide would be insufficiently diverting.



Lord Voldemort was bored.



He could not remember ever having been so bored. Possibly back in the days of his youth, he had suffered such ennui, but he could not recall it. Driven by hunger, first for knowledge and then for power, he had not had time to be bored during his first rise to power. When the wizarding world had trembled before him, he had been exhilarated, not bored. When he had lost everything but the most tenuous grasp on the physical world, he had been obsessed with surviving and finding a way to regain his lost power. He hadn't had time to be bored.



But today, he was bored.



The debacle at the Department of Mysteries the previous month had displeased him greatly, and he had taken out his anger on those of his minions who had managed to escape imprisonment. But now, even that pleasant memory failed to amuse him. When their shrieks of pain and incessant vows of faithfulness had grown tiresome, he had assigned each of them tasks appropriate to their abilities, then sent them out of his sight. He briefly pondered whether he should perhaps have simply killed the whole clutch of them and started over. Perhaps the next batch would have had more brains.



No, it would be tiresome to recruit and indoctrinate a whole new generation of Death Eaters. Boring, really. He heaved a long, sibilant sigh.



Malfoy's lushly appointed parlor was boring, too. The Death Eaters were gone; either trying to fulfill their assignments or trembling in terror of further failure. He had even sent Wormtail scurrying from his presence, when the man's whining obeisance began to pall. Narcissa had taken her offspring to the continent for a holiday, and Lucius...



Lucius was well enough off where he was. Steps were being taken to free him from Azkaban, but Lord Voldemort really couldn't be arsed to hurry things along. He was less than pleased with Lucius in any case. His minion would be freed all in good time - soon enough, at any rate, to receive his well-deserved punishment for failing his Lord. For now, let him stew where he was. It built character.



Voldemort rose and paced across the sitting room, glowering at the objets d'art displayed on delicate little tables and the ornately carved mantelpiece. He considered summoning some of his Death Eaters to him. Perhaps a few rounds of cruciatus would be entertaining enough to relieve the tedium of this day...or perhaps one of them knew card tricks?



An errant cloud cut off the late morning sun that had begun shining into the room. Voldemort hissed, flung open the sitting room door and wandered out into the hallway.



The Malfoy mansion was tastefully, if opulently decorated. It was also spotlessly clean. A small army of terrorized house elves maintained the place and kept out of sight. Which was just as well for them, Voldemort thought, as house elves were splendid for target practice.



And Nagini found slightly singed elf quite delicious.



The thought of his precious snake made him realize he hadn't seen Nagini in several days. She wasn't in distress; he would have sensed that. She was probably bored as well, he thought. Or possibly disappointed in him. He had promised her several tasty morsels he had subsequently been forced to withhold. She was probably off sulking somewhere.



He wandered in and out of rooms at random, sneering at the artwork, dismissing the library with a glance, and torching a ghastly potted topiary that simply offended his sense of aesthetics.



Nothing really helped.



Exhausting the resources of the ground floor, he mounted the staircase and began exploring the next story. The Master bedroom suite was predictably over-furnished. Lucius's collection of erotica proved hopelessly pedestrian. Narcissa's was diverting enough for him to spend a few minutes perusing it, but her apparent fascination with chimeras and hippogriffs rather put him off. The boy's room was cluttered with quidditch paraphernalia, schoolbooks, trashy wizarding novels, and what might be termed the Dark Arts Library Starter Kit. Voldemort almost smiled. Draco would bear watching.



Bathrooms, linen closets, private study, gift-wrapping room...



Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.



At length, he came to the end of the main hallway and opened the last door, to find himself confronted with a large, sunny room filled with...toys.



He arched a hairless eyebrow. Not an adult's sanctum for private diversions, nor a collection of Dark artifacts, nor even a young man's refuge from prying parental eyes...this room had been designed and furnished to delight a young child's eyes, mind, and magic.



It was filled with enchanted toys. The shimmering aura of magic hovered over nearly every object in sight, readily visible to those with the eye for such things. As he stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind him, a barely perceptible hum arose, and the toys nearest him quivered and came to life. A toy broomstick rose a few inches into the air, followed by its miniature quaffle. A silvery rocking unicorn tossed its head and whickered. Toy dragons crawled from their eggs and tumbled clumsily over each other, meeping comically. He wandered past a short bookcase, curling his thin lips as colorful picture books began sliding temptingly toward him, the illustrated animals and characters on their covers waving cheerfully.



As he turned a corner past a six-foot tall tower, complete with staircase, windows, crenellations, and banners rippling in the non-existent wind, he stopped and stared.



A large alcove spread out before him, bounded by tall windows and cheerfully bright cushions on broad window seats. The ceiling bore an enchanted mural of a lovely summer sky, with billowy clouds floating along and tiny song birds winging past. But the floor...



The floor was another world. A beautiful, perfect, miniature landscape stretched before him, with mountains, valleys, lakes, rivers, farms, villages, towns, and even a tiny castle, no bigger than his spread hand. And curled around it, looping through it, arching over it, a silver tracery of serpentine lines, shimmering in the sunlight.



He stepped forward almost in a daze, and caught his breath with a slight hiss as the magic activated.



A cheerful "Chuff! Chuff! Chuff! Tooooooot!" sounded, and a tiny green and black passenger train pulled away from its miniscule station, heading out onto the silvery tracks.



Lord Voldemort stared in fascination, an unfamiliar feeling welling up inside him. He watched the train chug merrily along, past a village, through a forest, and up into the hilly region of the elaborate setup, where it flashed through a series of tunnels. Mesmerized, the Dark Lord stepped closer, and sank down onto his knees to watch.



A flicker of imagery - perhaps once a memory, in another lifetime - flitted through his mind. A bitterly cold day with blowing snow and the tang of woodsmoke in the air...the distant sounds of singing and tinkling bells were barely perceptible. His cold hands - why were they so small? - in threadbare mittens, were spread against an icy sheet of glass. Hair and a worn woolen cap pressed into his forehead as he leaned against the glass, eyes so wide they hurt, staring at a small, colorful train that ran around and around on a figure-eight track, looping alternately through a cluster of model buildings and around an evergreen tree, bright with decorations. A lump in his throat hardened as he watched tiny puffs of smoke floating from the toy smokestack, and heard an impartially impatient voice call him back to the rest of the orphans on their holiday outing.



His eyes lidded briefly, then reopened on the present. This train set was far more impressive, stretching clear across the floor. The miniature landscape had been designed so that a child, or a sufficiently limber adult, could step into it and find a number of places to sit and observe. Magic had been liberally used in its creation: tiny cows and sheep wandered in the grassy meadows; tiny farmers tended their crops; miniature wagons and carriages drawn by tiny horses carried more tiny people about their business in the little villages and towns. A miniscule quidditch game was even being played in a tiny pitch beside the dainty little castle. Everything was perfect - a microcosm of their world, ready for his dominion and awaiting his pleasure.



A second train, with a silver and green engine, gave a whistle and pulled out of another station, chuffing happily along the sinuously curving tracks. Lord Voldemort stretched out one spidery hand and let a long finger trail over the tiny vehicle as it slipped past him on its route.



The sun was higher now, flooding the alcove with golden light and warmth. Voldemort closed his eyes in pleasure at the radiant heat on his face. A gentle thrumming resonated from the trains running over the model landscape, creating another rather enjoyable sensation. He opened his eyes, noting absently that he'd found Nagini. She was curled up on a green window seat cushion, basking in the sun.



What a good idea.



He considered the sculpted landscape and nearly smiled as he noted the mountainous area currently receiving most of the sunlight. One section of it was perfect - smooth curves, rather than sharp ridges or peaks, and well positioned to allow him both to bask and to watch the trains slithering along their tracks. A dual track ran through his chosen area, but it entered twin tunnels and ran beneath the mountains, rather than over them.



His robes suddenly felt old and dry, harsh and scratchy. He shrugged them off in irritation, casting them behind him, as he slid along the floor and up onto the warm, grassy slopes. Perfect. One leg rested comfortably along the side of the mountain range, with his foot pressing into a tiny, cup-like valley at its base. The other draped along the outside of the mountain. His bony hips nestled into a dip in the mountain just above the twin tunnel entrances, his emaciated torso stretching out over the higher elevations. He pillowed his head on one arm, and rested the other atop a miniature hayfield. The tiny farmer scratched his head and headed back to the farmhouse for lunch.



The sun beating down on his pallid skin felt delicious, as did the warm, rather velvety surface beneath him. He gave a long hiss of satisfaction as he felt the slight vibration of the trains resonating through his body.



Hearing him speak to her, Nagini woke from her nap and raised her head interrogatively, testing the air with her forked tongue. Seeing her master prone in the sunlight, she slithered from her perch and undulated over the mountain range to drape herself over and along his legs.



Voldemort sighed in pleasure. The heat of the sun on his skin, the softness of the micrograss beneath him and Nagini over him, the slight vibration of the moving trains, and the lovely sight of them, slipping like swift snakes along their serpentine trails...it was...pleasant, comfortable...vaguely familiar, in some odd, visceral way.



His narrow nostrils flared as he breathed in Nagini's scent. This body he had fashioned for himself recognized it as the scent of a receptive female, in the warmth of mating season. A surge of blood rushed to his groin for the first time since his reincarnation, surprising him.



While this body was outwardly human, he had been amused to note, when he first studied his new form, that it bore more in common with his totem creatures than slitted eyes and hairlessness. As his lusts had all been confined to the realms of magical knowledge and power for the past thirty years or more, his lack of external genitalia had not bothered him in the slightest. If anything, he had been pleased by the sleek smoothness of his new body.



But now...something was definitely happening. He thrashed against the mountainside, hissing in pleasure as Nagini slid up his legs, tongue questing along his skin. The vibration from the train set grew stronger, and he heard a faint whistle blow. His eyes slitted as he shifted against the model, trying to assuage the strange feeling between his legs.



Nagini heard his call and answered him, her weight pressing him more firmly into the mountainside, as she draped herself over his bony buttocks and curled herself onto his back, tickling his ear with her slim tongue. "Sssso sssleek! Sssmooth and ssstrong!" she hissed softly.



The thrashing seemed to be doing...something. The sense of heat and pressure at his groin increased again, and he slid his hand back and down, to feel between his legs. He had no sooner pressed a thin finger to the vertical slit that had replaced his human genitals, when something hot and wet and swollen suddenly burst forth from it, startling him. He ran a curious fingertip over the eruption and shuddered at the resulting sensation. It felt...odd. Fairly long, but very thin, covered with some sort of springy spines, and - he gasped as his finger slid down the center - apparently split right down the middle into twin lobes. The light touch of his fingertips on it was more maddening than satisfying. He groaned, and shifted again, undulating against the miniature mountains beneath him. He slipped back a little, and his hips dropped slightly, bringing his groin up against the twin tunnel entrances.



He was past reasoning it out. His body seemed to know what it wanted, however, and thus his hips slammed forward into the simulated rock face, and the two sharp hooks jutting from his pelvis embedded themselves in the model's surface. His newly discovered hemipenes thrust eagerly, one lobe slotting home into each of the tunnel openings.



Nagini wrapped her tail about one of his legs and a curve of her considerable body length around his arse, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Yesss!" She draped her neck over his shoulder and began lapping at the slight exudation along his throat.



Voldemort's hemipenes suddenly swelled to several times their original size, and their spines locked into the softer hidden structure of the train tunnels. He groaned with pleasure and began undulating more rapidly, as the pressure in his sexual organs mounted higher and higher.



Nagini turned her head and slipped back down to investigate what exactly was going on with his nether regions. Her head slid slowly down the narrow crack of his arse, tongue flicking constantly. "Sssso sssoft," she hissed, "Sssso sssexxxy!"



The mountains beneath him seemed to be trembling. Voldemort clutched the model's sides with arms and legs and ground his hips against it with all his strength. Just as Nagini's head slipped over and under his buttocks to examine his cloaca, there was a loud, "Toot-tooooot!" and two miniature trains came hurtling through the tiny tunnels, rattling deliciously along the undersides of his engorged organ and pressing the swollen lobes up against the tunnel ceilings, vibrating beneath them in exquisite torture.



Voldemort screamed and spasmed, shooting semen from both lobes deep into the tunnels and onto the trains.



Nagini drew her head back, hissing in surprise as the two trains came rushing out from beneath her master's spread arse, wobbling just a bit on their tracks, but bearing his sticky load proudly just the same.



Voldemort sighed in completion. "Sssso good," he told Nagini, absently. She coiled once around his other leg and lapped at the splash of semen dripping along his inner thigh. "Yesss," he said, "ssso good." His eyes were half lidded and he relaxed slightly as he felt his hemipenes slowly start to soften. Sated and warm, he allowed his mind to drift for just a bit...



Bang!



The door to the toy room flew open, and footsteps came towards them, almost at a run.



"My Lord! My Lord!"



Malfoy.



Of course. Lucius's timing was occasionally quite atrocious.



Voldemort stirred in annoyance, but found the spines of his organ still held him locked in the tunnels.



"My Lord! I was cleared of all charges and set free this morning! Naturally, I hastened at once to your si-Eeep!" Lucius's famed silver tongue turned leaden in his mouth, as he came past the tower and found his Dark Lord and Master bare-arsed naked, stretched out on a toy train set, apparently in the midst of fucking both it and his pet snake.



Oh, shit.



All the blood drained from Lucius's face.



"Luciussss, my faithful servant," Voldemort said, looking up at him with a cold, evil smile, "How pleased I am to find you at my side once more."



I am a dead man, Lucius thought.





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End

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