A fate worse than death

You wanted a story here it is

Harry sighed as he stared at the wall for the longest amount of time humanly possible.
From nearby Voldemort turned to look at the teenager. The strongly built man leaned back in his seat in front of the oak desk and sighed as well.
"What is it Potter?" He asked, looking at the child with contempt.
Harry, as usual did not- or perhaps could not open his mouth to respond. Instead the raven haired boy fell onto his back roughly on the stone floor.
"I have no time for your antics, Potter," Voldemort said with scorn "Since I've taken over the ministry there are a lot of papers to fill out."
Harry let out a whimper and turned his head to look at the bald man. Voldemort sighed and stood from the desk. He walked over to the boy and picked him up from Harry's armpits.
"Now really child, I can't keep doing this every time you get bored,"
Harry frowned at that and glared at the man before nuzzling into his cool neck. Voldemort sighed and patted Harry's black hair.
"Okay, just for now," he said before sitting back down at the desk and adjusting Harry in his lap.

It had been a year since Harry's soul had been forcibly removed from his body and surprisingly enough since then the world had gone suddenly still. No more murders were committed. No more raids or ransoms. No more mindless destruction. Everyone had thought that when the deatheaters had taken over that they were to become slaves to the dark side, forced to wear collars and to do the bidding of those who owned them. Surprisingly enough the only slave to be found was Harry Potter and every day he found himself thinking less of how he was forced to stay there and more of how nice it was to not have to be responsible for once. The small groups of rebellion had died out over the last eleven months. As it were people who had been fighting the dark for as long as they had been alive, were suddenly finding themselves loyal followers to Lord Voldemort as well.
Harry pouted into the elders neck as he was cuddled close. The man ignored the child's obvious tantrum and continued signing laws into existence or filing the rare notice of complaint he received from unhappy ministry officials. Harry pouted more as he was ignored and softly bit at the mans neck.
"Harry James Potter you stop it this instant!" Voldemort snapped as the young man pouted more.
Harry sighed and nuzzled into the snake's neck once more, determined not to be ignored. Voldemort groaned in annoyance and swatted the young man's bottom.
"I don't have time for this Harry," he said with a soft sigh as the boy bit his neck again "do I need to punish you again?"
Harry winced as the memory of the last 'punishment' flashed through his mind. The punishment involved his friend Luna Lovegood being brought from the corporate office of the Daily Quibler and tortured for several hours in front of the boy.
She spat blood on the office floor and stared into Harry's eyes as the deatheater above her whipped her back with a cattle whip. She screamed until her vocal chords broke and squirmed about naked on the floor. Harry's face was covered in tears as he silently watched the petite girl suffer before them. Voldemort's erection fully lodged inside Harry's aching bottom.
Harry swallowed hard and fell limp against the man as if admitting defeat. Voldemort smiled and rubbed Harry's diapered bottom with approval.
"Good, I don't think miss Lovegood would enjoy another visit here," he paused and turned to look into the dull green eyes "I know miss Granger hadn't"
Harry winced and turned his head back into the neck of his captor, unable to look at the monster. He tried to shut down the memory of the brown haired girl. The way she smiled, the sound of her laugh. The sound of her screams.
Harry let out a small whimper as he cried into the murderer's shirt. Voldemort smiled and shifted Harry so he was straddling Voldemort's waist. He dug his nails into Harry's bare thighs, pulling the boy down hard onto the bulge in his pants. Harry whimpered softly in the man's ear. Voldemort smiled and patted the boy's head in false comfort.
"There, there," he said softly "We will be good so miss Lovegood doesn't have to suffer like ms Granger did, isn't that right?"
Harry nodded into Voldemort's shoulder.
"Good boy," he said softly.
Harry whimpered as nails scratched into his bare back, his body shivered in the chilly room. He was dressed only in a fluffy nappy (diaper) and white socks. Harry snuggled into the small amount of warmth that Voldemort's skin provided and sighed as he realized that there was no escape from what Voldemort had planned for him.

Harry woke a few hours later, still buried in Voldemort's clothes. The man had his head dangling from the back of the chair underneath them, his eyes shut in exhaustion. Deep breathing lifted Harry off the man's chest for a moment before relaxing him back into the elder's flesh. Harry whimpered and felt with disappointment that the diaper he wore was uncomfortably wet and cold. He whimpered softly and tried to nudge the man's chest with his face to get him to stir. Suddenly his cheek hit metal and air rushed out of Harry's lung like he had been punched. He felt his mind reconnect with itself. He gasped as he tried to return the oxygen from his beaten lungs. Harry slowly lifted an arm, his muscles screaming in pain from the sudden use. For the first time in a year Harry Potter smiled. He felt amazing. He had control of his body again. He was no longer a vegetable trapped in his own mind. Harry smiled bigger and in his elation forgot of the man underneath his body. He let out a small giggle. And then a laugh. And then a cackle. Harry looked at the locket that his face touched and smiled more.
"Harry," he said in a cracked and strangled voice "my name is Harry Potter"
"Yes it is, Harry," a cold voice said, cutting the boy's elation short.
Harry sat up, his hand clutching at the locket. His body groaned in distress. Harry looked up at the old man with a frown.
"Your name is Tom Marvolo  Riddle," he said simply, finding it was the only thing that his mind could focus on.
He could have said anything in that moment. He could have screamed, he could have threatened, he could have swore. However, Harry found his brain empty of those things he had been longing to do the last eleven months of his life. He stared into the ruby eyes and felt his heart break. Voldemort stared back into the watering green eyes, noticing for a moment that they had their usual shine back to them. He sat in surprise for a moment watching the fifteen year old with awe. Suddenly his senses regained them self and he tore the locket from the child's hand. He tucked it safely back under his shirt and adjusted himself into a sitting position. Harry still stared up at the man, as he was carried from the office, through the large manor  and into Voldemort's private quarters.
Harry was gently laid on the soft sheets of the large bed and Voldemort threw a clean diaper on top of the boy.
Harry knew the man could have a servant do this for him, or use a spell to rid the mess. Harry also realized that the man did it himself to embarrass Harry. The same reason why the teenager wasn't allowed clothing. Harry closed his eyes as the man cleaned his privates. It was over quickly and although it had been like this for almost a year, Harry still felt embarrassed every time. Voldemort pulled Harry up to the top of the bed and pulled the covers over the boy's body. He stripped of his robes and placed the locket on the cabinet nearby. The pale man sighed and crawled under the sheets.
"It was nice hearing your voice again," he said, softly.
He pulled Harry into his embrace and closed his eyes, his arms firmly holding onto Harry. Harry closed his eyes and felt himself fall into nothingness again.

Harry looked around the dark room before seeing a tall man enter.
"Tom," he said with a pout "let me go,"
The man walked past Harry without response.
"Tom please," Harry said with a sniffle "please let me go,"
The man opened a door and paused.
"You stand up and walk out right now," he said coldly "and I'll let you go,"
The door closed behind him leaving Harry to the pitch black that devoured the boy.

Harry yawned and opened his eyes. The sun shone over the room in golden rays. Arms were surrounding his middle and Harry longed to be able to scoot backwards into the spooning position they were in. Harry pouted until he felt the arms around him pull him tighter to Voldemort's skinny body.
"Don't pout, Harry," the man hissed half asleep.
"Sorry," Harry whispered back in his sleepy mind set.
The body behind him stiffened in surprise and suspicion, but Harry was already asleep, lulled by the heart beating against his chest.
Voldemort watched Harry drool on the cotton pillow that cradled the boys raven hair. He had a small smile on his face as he snored softly. His nose twitched lightly with the dream and Voldemort couldn't tell if the action was cute or annoying. He absentmindedly scratched his nail up and down the boys side as he watched him sleep. It was one of the few times where Harry wasn't tense with anger or slumped in sorrow.
Voldemort wasn't expecting to hear the boy speak, nor was he expecting parsletongue to come from the child's lips. It was the first time the child had managed to surprise him in a year and as he gently massaged the boy's pale skin Voldemort wondered to himself whether he should like to be surprised again.