Severus was broken to Tom. Tom owned his body and soul. Severus was ready to sever. Ready to give it all up for the one who cared. But Severus never knew what caring was, never got to know what real love was and what the difference between abuse and affection was. He was clueless and that made him ever so more easy to mould into the perfect pet. The perfect plaything. The perfect toy. And if that meant he got to experience what he called love, then let it be so, because Severus would do anything for his Master.
He'd lay in their room, the only room he got to know within the Riddle mansion, and think. Think about his love for Master, his will to do anything for Master, if Master would be happy or sad tonight. Severus life was within this room. He wondered, oh how he wondered, what his Master was doing outside of these four walls.
Severus was shocked when his mother got a letter about Tom Riddle, the Minister of magic, wanting him. He was only fifteen, but he knew exactly what Minister Riddle meant by wanting' him. It was common knowledge that the Minister kept things for himself. Tom was pretty and very easy on the eyes, he was a delight to see with dashing white teeth and a smirk that could make anybody quiver. Severus, however, was none of those things. He was dirty and horrid, half the weight he should have been and too tall for his clothing. He had long hair which made him look like a girl and a nose too big for his face. Mother had refused, much to Severus' relief, but when money was bought into the matter, Severus was shipped off.
Four horrid months of training. A mixture of praise, pleasure, and punishment. He was curio'd, beaten, fucked, and cuddled. His mind was so confused but he learnt. He learnt quickly, yet that still wasn't good enough. The rules were a maze he had to learn to slither through; Severus wasn't allowed to speak without permission, not allowed to swear, and defiantly not allowed to talk back. By the end of it all, he was ready to drop to his knees with his head bowed and eyes lowered at a single word from his master, from his owner, from his keeper. Tom had whispered words of delight into Severus' ear, spoken about how beautiful his malnourished body was, how handsome the purple and yellow bruises were against his pale skin. Severus would melt into each word and touch, gasping and giggling, moaning and whimpering.
Severus' thought Tom loved him but he was greatly wrong. Tom was simply using him, as you do with any toy.
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A Slytherins Secrets
أدب الهواةshort drabble like stories with less than 1,000 words. Each one shall have Sevreus in it.
