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Fury of the Hellspawn: The Tale of an Incubus	By : apocalypso Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 40188 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
A/N: Alright,
there�s gonna be a lot of sex in this story. This chapter, specifically,
contains a lot of sex, torture and rape. This is as far as I�ve gotten until
now, but don�t expect more updates frequently.

I AM NOT GOING TO GIVE LEMON WARNINGS�MOST OF THIS CHAPTER
IS FULL OF LEMON SCENES.

And, err�tell me if you puke or something; it might just make
my day, in a perverse manner.

Reviewer responses:

Clashina: Ha. Ha ha ha. Funny, but keep reading.

Jbern: Cheers.

Relentless: Have fun.

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Chapter 2: Family

Harry carelessly removed Rudolphus� dead body from the
windowsill, making sure that no Order Member saw it. A wave of the dead man�s
wand caused the blood and gore to disappear from the windowsill. A repeat
caused the same material to vanish from the room. He used the charm a third
time, now concentrating really hard, and said in a focused voice �Evanesco!� The vanishing spell worked
almost perfectly, causing Rudolphus� entire body to disappear, leaving only
meaningless bits of hair on the ground. Harry nodded to himself in
satisfaction, and turned to the rest of his problem.

Bellatrix Lestrange�now made Bellatrix Black by force.

Surprisingly, she was not holding a wand, or even acting
threatening. Instead, she was still sitting kneeled down where she had been
previously, and was staring at Harry in disbelief.

Still naked, Harry unconcernedly went over and sat on the
bed with his legs parted slightly, giving her a full view of his crotch. A
slight blush graced her cheeks as she stared at him.

�Potter�what the hell
was that? You�re a good guy! You aren�t supposed to do these things!� The words
burst out of her mouth, her disbelief for the situation evident in the nervous
tone of her voice.

Potter simply smirked at her, his eyes leering suggestively.
Her answering blush was all he needed, for he lifted his hand and crooked a
finger at her, crudely beckoning her towards him. She stood shakily, not moving
towards him in the least. A slight frown marred his handsome features, but
disappeared quickly enough.

He rose from the bed smoothly and swept over to her. In a
flash, he was grasping her by the neck, and had pushed her gently against the
wall. Curiously, she thought, Potter had made no move to remove the wand from
her hand, as she had wildly grasped for it as he propelled her towards the wall.
Under the pale light of the bulb, he curiously examined her face, his left hand
trailing fingers across her features with impossible gentleness.

She gulped nervously, an action that was wholly out of
character for Bellatrix Lestrange, the infamous Death Eater, known widely for
her rage and perverse torture.

His curious examination apparently over with, he whispered
�For two months, Bellatrix, I have dreamed of this moment. Two whole months.
Since that night at the Ministry, I have thought of you��

His fingers began to touch her face again, softly running
over her features with sensual grace.

�What eyes you have,� he whispered, staring into them, �and those
lips�your hair. For two months, I have lusted for you Bellatrix.� She shuddered
in his grip, quailing under his intense gaze. His lips grazed the line of her
jaw as they moved towards her ear, flicking his tongue out to tease it. As she
shivered in his grip, he moved back to look her in the eyes.

�Lust?� she
thought. �He lusts after me?� Harry
interpreted her gaze perfectly, whispering �Do not look so doubtful�you are an incredibly beautiful woman. But
no�it is your fervor that I lust after, the insanity of your thought; your
utter lack of inhibition.�

A gasp rose from her mouth unbidden as she stared into his
entrancing eyes. A small smile spread on his face as he whispered �You have
what I want. Are you willing to give it to me?�

Mouth surprisingly dry, she noted the feel of her body fully
pressed against his as he held her against the wall. Unable to look in his eyes,
she averted her own, staring at his chest instead.

�I-I cannot,� she whispered miserably, �the Master will kill
me.� Nervously, she looked up, remembering what he had just done to her husband
and hoped for the best concerning her own possibly short future.

Ex-Husband!!! Her
mind screamed. The smile widened into a grin as he whispered �If you are
willing to give me what I seek, I will give your master an offer that he cannot
refuse. Your life for his.� She opened her mouth to give a retort in defense of
her Lord, but it died away in the depths of her throat as she saw into his
eyes. His power was visible in them as he spoke, a sure sign of the fact that
he could certainly achieve that.

She gave a hesitant nod, unable to look away. His grin
returned as he saw her nod once more, a more determined action than before. His
grip on her neck relaxed as his right hand fell down to hold her by the waist
as he gently kissed her lips. He pulled her away from the wall and turned her
around, pressing her back against his front. A hand moved her silky black hair
to the side, and his lips pressed against her neck, sucking on her skin with
sensual passion.

Her moan was accompanied by a clattering sound as her wand
slipped from her fingers. His hands slipped around her waist to undo her robe,
and with a feather light movement, he slipped it off her frame. Almost in a
daze from the unreal pleasure she was experiencing, she absently noted that
there should have been no possible way for him to stimulate her so much by
simply kissing her neck, no matter how passionately he did it.

Azkaban had made her gaunt and frail, but she had enough
skill in Potions to create the potions needed for the Ritual of Restoration. It
had taken eight months to brew, but it had been finished three weeks after the
night at the Department of Mysteries. A time-turner could work wonders. Her
youthful splendor had returned, adding meat to her bones, changing the texture
of her skin, restoring her beautiful hair and ridding her of her wrinkles. No
more did she look gaunt and pale; no more did she have the skull-like
appearance. At the age of thirty seven, she looked twenty two at the most.

Now divest of her robes, she stood in slacks and a blouse,
both midnight black in color. His hands gripped at her waist again, pressing
her firmly against his crotch to show her his excitement. A low moan escaped
her throat as his lips reattached themselves to her neck. His hands lifted her
blouse over her head, and opened the button of her slacks. He slid her pants down
slowly, pressing kisses against the bare skin of her back. She hurriedly kicked
off her shoes and stepped out of the trousers, turning towards him.

He pulled her into his arms, clutching at her firm rear, his
lips crashing down on hers. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues met, and
he undid the clasp of her bra with clumsy fingers. With a feverish pace, he
pulled her panties down, using his foot to push them all the way to the ground
so she could step out of them. Then, he had lifted her up in the air and had
thrown her on the bed. A sensual madness glinting in his eyes, he climbed on
top of her, kissing her hard.

His mouth worked clumsy wonders on her, devouring her skin
wherever he could reach. His hands kneaded her breasts as his mouth licked and
sucked on her dark nipples, arousing them to hardness. She could feel his
erection against her inner thigh, and she began to feel the wetness between her
legs as her arousal grew greater and greater. Shivering with anticipation as
she felt his massive organ straining against her flesh, she grasped his
wandering head by the hair tightly, mashing his face against her breasts. With
no warning, he had suddenly plunged deep inside her, filling her like no man
ever could. A scream of pleasure and pain tore itself from her throat. With
frantic movements he plunged in and out of her, unable to stop himself from
suckling her skin all through it.

Minutes later they reached a frantic pace, and Bellatrix
could feel her orgasm building to shattering proportions. His moans were
growing louder, and he pulled all the way out of her just as she let loose with
a guttural scream of pleasure, climaxing harder than she ever had before.
Sitting up on his knees he stroked his length with his hand while his other
hand slipped into her hair to hold her head firmly. She removed his hand from
his shaft and stroked it with her own, noting the slick sensation of her juices
on it. Opening her mouth, she put her lips around the head of his cock,
swirling her tongue around it as if it were a delicacy.

Harry was taken over the edge by her action, the warmth and
wetness of her mouth as well as the sensation of her tongue causing him to
burst in her mouth with a shout of pleasure. Numerous, thick ropes of salty
semen splattered the inside of her mouth, more than she could hold, forcing her
to swallow once. She sucked and stroked him until he was dry, squeezing every
last drop out of him. She swallowed yet again, absently noting that he had
unloaded a truly massive amount into her mouth, and in her post-orgasmic state
slumped against his abdomen, still gripping him tightly. His fingers laced into
her hair, gently holding her head as he breathed hard and fast.

Gradually, he came down off his high. She moved off him, now
looking at him with uncertainty. Slowly, he lowered himself down to her level
and stared at her, admiring the violet eyes filled with lust and nervousness.
The glint of madness had not disappeared, he contentedly noted. His fingers
wound themselves into her hair and he drew her in for a kiss, experimentally
tasting her mouth. As their tongues met, he absently noted that the semen had
added a slight salty tinge to the otherwise honey-flavored mouth. He pulled
away and sat down on the bed next to her, drawing her sweaty body onto his. She
clung to his chest, visibly exhausted by their romp, her head nestled into the
crook of his neck.

He gasped as her tongue flicked out at his collarbone, and
then swirled around his Adam�s apple as she sucked on it. Slowly, he leaned
back in the bed until he was lying down, and pulled her fully on top of him so
that she straddled his hips. Her ministrations had not ceased, and he moaned
into her ear, fingers clutching at her body in ecstasy. He felt himself getting
hard again, the insistent length of his member straining against her hot center
as it hardened jerkily. Pausing, she looked him in the eye, wondering what he
expected of her. She noticed that he had become aroused remarkably fast after
such a strenuous romp�unnaturally fast.

His right hand was gripping her breast, thumb stroking her
nipple, and he dragged it down her abdomen, awkwardly straightening his elbow
under her body. His fingers found her wetness, gently stroking at her outer
lips with abandon. She groaned into his neck, biting down to stifle a scream as
he brushed against her clit. She arched her back, mewling sexily, and presented
her breasts to his face. His hand moved from her, eliciting a groan of protest,
until he used it to guide his throbbing organ into her center, plunging it into
her harshly by pulling her body down on him. Her back arched and her head was
thrown back in pain and ecstasy as she released a scream from the very depths
of her soul.

Still dazed from the massive penetration, she somehow
managed to start bouncing on him, gyrating her hips as she rode him to increase
the pleasure for both parties. His breath was shallow, as was hers, incredible
pleasure rolling through them in waves. His hands rose to cup her breasts,
kneading them furiously and causing painful pleasure to the woman mounted on
him. He seemed to be getting off on simply the view of her beautiful flesh
moving above him, dancing around with her movements enticingly. She gasped as
his fingers pinched her nipples, squeezing her breasts pleasurably, and bent
down to latch her lips to his, viciously attacking his mouth with hers.

She felt her climax building up like a massive surge of
magic, and screamed as it struck her, driving her hard enough that she
convulsed, her body jerking around in his grasp. Her movements were an
aphrodisiac to him as they caused her muscles to clench around his cock,
squeezing as she bounced up one last time. The movement practically coaxed the
orgasm out of him, and with a loud moan he came again, jerking as his seed
exploded into her body forcefully.

She collapsed against him as his member, rapidly softening
after the intense orgasm, extracted itself from within her with a flopping
sound, causing a mix of their juices to drip from her and land on his lower
abdomen. Head burrowed into his neck, she breathed heavily, sweat glistening on
her brow and neck. His hands gripped at her tightly, possessively holding on to
her as she shook, still riding the pleasurable wave that was the aftermath of
her orgasm. Gently, he ran his hands through her silky soft hair, straightening
it so that it cascaded down her back. His caresses were no longer stimulating,
but were relaxing her, soothing her after the strain of their romp. He was
holding her tightly, comfortingly as she relaxed against his chest, nuzzling
the crown of her head with his cheek to give her an odd, yet definite sense of
peace and belonging.

Her legs were splayed out on either side of him as she clung
to his body possessively, trying to press every spare bit of flesh against his
body to completely absorb the sense of security he was radiating. His hand
cupped her rear, holding her firmly against him as he kissed her shoulder, and
then her neck. She sighed as she melted into his embrace, the feeling of
completion finally being accepted as something far more than simply
superficial. She began to believe that he truly wanted her, not that he was
taking advantage of her as psychological torture. While the sex was rough, she
had the feeling that it was done purposely, as that was exactly what she had
wanted. He had somehow known her preferences, and had done exactly what she had
liked.

Still absorbed in the sensation of their bodies against each
other, Harry pulled the blanket over them, conveniently forgetting the group of
Death Eaters and Voldemort that was torturing his family downstairs. Thus, he
was a bit startled when the door opened noisily a few minutes later.

Startled, he flung out Rudolphus� wand, uttering the first
curse that came to mind.

�Avada Kedavra!�

The beam of green light buckled out of the wand, slightly
underpowered because the wand did not suit him. The figure in the doorway
dropped to the floor in surprise, barely evading the fatal curse as it passed
by him by a simple few inches.

Shouting in panic, he rolled into the room, wand at the
ready, to be greeted by the most shocking sight he had ever seen. Bellatrix
Lestrange, the most feared and maniacal of the Dark Lord�s Death Eaters was
ostensibly naked under the covers, straddling Harry Potter�s form as his arm
circled her possessively.

Macnair whipped around in shock, only to find that his
companion was on the ground, a blank expression in his eyes. Apparently,
Rabastan Lestrange was not as lucky as him, having taken the curse straight to
the heart, where a large chunk of flesh was missing from the middle of his
ribcage. A few feet beyond the body of his comrade was a splash of blood
against the wall, coating the hallway in gore. Apparently, despite the wand
causing his curse to be underpowered, Harry�s curse was strong enough to make a
tangible physical effect rather than just knocking his victim stone dead. Unknown
to Macnair, the line of Lestrange was permanently ended that night. Whipping
around yet again, Macnair was met with a wand under his chin, poking into his
jugular threateningly.

He chanced a look around, and found, to his utter horror,
that Harry Potter was the one holding the wand, stark naked with a glint of
insane malice in his emerald green eyes. He gulped nervously, and tried to
surreptitiously bring his wand to bear.

It was a bad idea, as his attacker dug the wand deeper into
his neck, whispering �Don�t even think about it. Drop the wand, now.� He
complied, fear evident in his eyes. Harry moved away silkily, and waved his
wand, causing Macnair�s to float over to the bed, where Bellatrix pulled it out
of the air.

Macnair gulped as he looked towards the bed, seeing the
incredibly sexy Bellatrix reclining on the bed under the scant bedcovers in a
sensual position, similar to those adopted by Muggles in their sex-magazines. Her
voluptuous figure was covered in all the right parts, but it still left little
to the imagination, and he felt the blood rushing lower down in his body.

Potter laughed cruelly as he saw the beginnings of the bulge
in his pants, and Macnair was reminded with a start that he was being held at
wand-point by a young, but incredibly powerful man. Ten minutes ago, Macnair
wouldn�t have given the situation a second thought before unhooking the axe
from his belt and ramming it through the upstart lad�s cranium. Now, however,
after seeing the physical
manifestation of the killing curse on his comrade, he had to bite back his
reflex actions, loathe as he was to do it.

�Leave the room. Go down and tell your master that I shall
join him in a minute. Inform him that I graciously ask for some time with my�relatives.� He sneered the last word
with such malice that Macnair shook, inwardly berating himself uselessly for
quailing in front of the teenager. One last look into Harry�s eyes quashed the
last of his indignant train of thought, and he acquiesced to Potter�s orders
immediately, bowing his way out of the room.

Turning around, Harry looked at Bellatrix with undisguised
lust in his eyes. She looked back with equal fervor, and leapt into his arms,
crashing her lips down on his as she straddled him where he stood. He bit down
on her lip, tugging gently, and growled �We need to get dressed. We can resume
what we started later on, but rest assured�you will be mine.�

She shivered at the intensity of his words, and kissed him
hungrily one last time before she moved to don her clothes that lay strewn
around the room. As she did, she pondered what the last half hour had brought
to her. Her abusive bastard of a husband was dead, as was his incompetent
brother. On many occasions, her husband had loaned
her to his heterosexually-inclined brother, and he had mauled her in bed,
roughly trying to dominate her with his tiny penis. Dangerous as she was with a
wand, he was easily able to overcome her using physical means. Then, in one
fell swoop, she was relieved of their oppression in one night, and Harry
Potter, the erstwhile savior of the light, had bedded her in a truly delectable
fashion, and had informed her rather than inquired that she would be his. He
was like nothing she had expected, being far from the hateful brat that she had
thought he would be. And, he had
grown up rather well in the last few months, expanding on his previous slightly
athletic body to look deliciously muscled. While she was still unsure as to why
the hell she was actually going along with the ridiculously weird events of
tonight, she somehow knew that he would make good on his words.

Across the room, Harry got dressed methodically, permanently
transfiguring some of the disgusting hand-me-downs into appropriate clothing
for the Lord of an Old Family. He donned the new black slacks and red silk
shirt, slipping on white socks and wearing the newly transfigured boots. Since
Transfiguration, unlike Conjuration, was permanent, he could wear these without
the fear that they would suddenly turn back into their previous form. Lastly,
he slipped on a midnight black robe, finding the symbolism amusing. By donning
the robe to repay the kindness of his
relatives, he was symbolically creating his image as a Wizard of Pure Blood,
one with utter distaste for Muggles. A quick charm on his hair caused it to
spike up slightly, and loose it�s unruly, windswept look that usually had
females swooning. It looked even better now, he mused, although it lacked the
�fuck-me� sensuality that his hair usually had.

Luckily, he had taken the time to brew the potion to repair
eyesight, having owl-ordered the ingredients a few days before he left
Hogwarts. After a few futile attempts, his work finally culminated with a
perfect potion, and his eyesight was permanently restored over the course of a
painful night. With the muscular form that he now bore from intensive daily
workouts coupled with long runs on Dudley�s
old Treadmill, he filled the robes elegantly, looking powerful and attractive.
His last action was to tap his Holly wand with Rudolphus�, muttering a few
words to make the wand glow gold. He had known of how to remove the tracking
charm from his wand for two months, but was unable to find another wand to cast
the necessary spell on his own�a rather irritating problem. The Order members
on guard, surely, would have frowned upon such an action, being incredibly
hypocritical as usual in their strict adherence to the law, despite the fact
that they were an armed, and illegal, militia. One last look in the shattered
mirror later, he turned around to find Bellatrix. She was looking at him with
undisguised hunger in her eyes, raking his body with a lustful look. He
returned her gaze equally, appreciating the way she filled her own robes, and
wrapped an arm around her waist as he escorted her from the room and down the
stairs.

Entering the living room, a cruel smirk crossed his face as
he noticed the plight of his family. Looking around, he saw that there were only
two Death Eaters left, Macnair and Nott. Voldemort, it seemed, had transfigured
a couch into a throne, and was currently reposed on it elegantly, his red eyes
examining Harry with interest.

�Well. Harry Potter. Macnair here has informed me of a
certain request of yours? I find it hard to believe that you would ask such
things.�

�Lord Voldemort.� Harry nodded his greeting. �I have been
liberated of certain�cages. I believe
you know what I speak of.�

The red eyes widened as understanding dawned on the Dark
Lord. In an almost friendly voice, the creature whispered �You were subjected
to it as well?�

As of thirty seconds ago, the Dark Lord wanted nothing but
to kill the whelp standing before him. The boy had proved to be a hindrance to
his plans repeatedly, and the time for dilly-dallying was over. He had been
thwarted twice since returning to life, and he would not let this chance
escape. But now, this changed things. If Harry Potter had endured the same
trials and constrictions that he had, then there was hope for him. Having a
lieutenant as powerful as Potter could become was a definite advantage, one
that he would try to cultivate. If things did not work out; he would slay the
little bastard, prophecy or not.

The Dark Lord Voldemort did not bow before the words of a
halfwit soothsayer.

Harry nodded in the affirmative, and said �Enough for now. I
believe I have certain business to take care of, after which we shall converse.
I assume you have a silencing charm in place? Or have you terminated the Order
guard?� Voldemort nodded at the first question, an expectant smirk on his face
as he motioned Harry towards his waiting family.

�Be careful,� Harry said absently, stalking towards his
relatives with an insane glint in his eyes. �The guard will be replaced in
three hours.�

Harry took a moment to examine them dispassionately. Vernon had a series of
cuts all over his bare body, tears rolling down his face. A dagger was stuck
into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall, and from what Harry could see, the
dagger was exceptionally rusty. He smirked and turned to Dudley, who had been
pinned to the wall in a grotesque representation of the Holy Cross that was
mounted on the nearby shelf, large silver spikes jammed through his palms and
feet, barely supporting the corpulent boy�s weight. He had the word �freak�
carved into his forehead and chest. Both of them showed signs of the Cruciatus,
shivering and shuddering as tremors rolled down their spines.

Then, Harry turned to Petunia. She was on her back, naked,
and from the looks of things, she had just been raped by Nott, who had his
pants around his ankles. Burn marks were evident on her arms, evidence of the
use of the branding curse, and her ears had been cut off, leaking blood onto
her hair.

Harry laughed viciously at them, and strode into the
kitchen. He returned later bearing a curious assortment of things, none of
which the Death Eaters knew any use for.

He motioned for Nott and Macnair to deal with the male
Dursleys, muttering �No more marks. Only use the Cruciatus. Their lives are
mine.� Gulping, they looked to Voldemort for an answer, and he scowled at them
irritatedly, nodding to agree with Harry�s orders. Apparently, the Dark Lord
was quite intent on seeing just how creative Harry could be.

Harry beckoned to Bellatrix, who approached him silently.
Leaning in, he muttered �Take her up to my room.� Bellatrix nodded, and floated
the sobbing woman upstairs, taking special care to bang her on each step, a
cruel smirk on her face. Turning to Voldemort, Harry said �Please excuse me for
a few minutes.�

Voldemort laughed cruelly and nodded as Harry walked away,
knowing that his agreement or disagreement would not matter to the boy.

Harry strode up the stairs, slipping his robe off his
shoulders. He entered the room, a cruel smirk on his face, and disrobed
completely, piling his clothes on the table. Turning to Bellatrix, he said �I
will need your aid in this, Bella.
This disgusting whore of a woman cannot by any stretch of imagination excite
me.�

Bellatrix smirked, waving her wand to cause her clothes to
vanish and reappear next to Harry�s. He took the time to admire her, she was
certainly beautiful, and with a body that voluptuous, she would look incredibly
enticing for years to come. Petunia was on the bed, still sobbing, and looking
at Harry with dread in her eyes. Harry laughed at her cruelly, snarling �Bitch,
fifteen years ago you had a chance to make this night never happen.�

Body quivering in pain, she gasped �Boy-Harry! Please, don�t
do this! Please! You don�t want to do something like this, Harry. Please, let
us go! My Dinky-Diddydums is in so much pain�my Vernon!�

A low chuckle emerged from his mouth, and she quailed as she
found nothing but pure malice in his eyes. A haunting whisper emerged from his
mouth as he smashed the direst hope that she now had.

�You dare to plead with me? You are a whore, Petunia, and
you will get what is coming to you. You think you deserve mercy? You think your
imbecile of a husband and your fat oaf of a son deserve mercy? A pox on your
family, you disgusting trollop! All three of you will get exactly what is
coming to you�take it from me, bitch, you will not like it one bit. I�ll show
you what a freak can do to you.�

She made a move to scramble for the door, but a wave of Harry�s
wand sent her crashing back against the wall, causing her to slump limply on
the bed, still bawling. A manic look of insanity in his eyes, he raised his
wand again, and intoned �Crucio.� The
unforgivable struck her above the heart, and her mouth flung itself open as a
scream of pure agony tore itself from her throat. After what seemed like hours
under the curse, she found herself released, and resumed her bawling, now
shaking and shivering like her husband and child were in the lower level of the
house. Timidly, through her sobs, her eyelids cracked open to examine her
surroundings, and she recoiled violently as she found him standing within a
foot of her. His member was swaying after he walked over, and a look of
horrific comprehension dawned on her face as she realized just what he intended
to do. Through the haze of pain that had clouded her mind, she had not quite
connected the dots, finding it odd rather than threatening that her nephew was
standing before her divest of his clothes. She would undergo exactly what the
freak downstairs had just done to her. Her attempts to scramble away from him
resulted in a resounding backhanded slap that caused his fingernails to strike
what remained of her ears, sending waves of agony through her body as blood
streaked on her cheek.

She wept again as he moved towards her, straddling her with
an evil glint in his eyes. His hands grabbed her breasts painfully, squeezing
them roughly and twisting her nipples. She cried out in pain, making him laugh
again. He kept kneading her breasts, squeezing hard and mashing them with his
hands, interspersing his molestation of her body with forceful strikes to the
face. Each movement she gave was rewarded with pain as he either struck her
face or twisted her breasts, grasping the small globes of flesh tightly and
viciously twisting the whole breast. He slapped her face once more, causing her
to scream, and bent down.

Her nipples were the only feature on her body that was
anywhere near attractive. She was a bony, frail woman with skin paler than a
Vampire. Her skin seemed to be stretched across her bones, giving her the
emaciated look of a convict at Azkaban. Roughly grasping her left breast in his
hand, he took her nipple into his mouth. Despite herself, she groaned as his
tongue teased her, but suddenly screamed ear-splittingly as he bit down hard
enough to tear her nipple off entirely. Still screaming, she saw her nephew
look at the blood that cascaded down her chest in awe�and a curious sense of
longing. She flailed as he laughed at her, and painfully continued to mangle
her breast. A woman�s chest is one of the most sensitive parts of her body, and
the pain she was receiving was incredible. A sick grin on his face, he parted
his lips to show her something that made her scream in shock and horror. Her
nipple, now parted from her body, was clenched between his front teeth,
staining them red with blood. He spat it out, causing it to land in her hair
near the blood that still poured from her ears. She was beginning to feel weak
from the blood loss, and was unable to give much more than a whimper, despite
the burgeoning effect of the pain emerging from various points on her body.

He smirked at her sobs, but scowled as he found that she did
not arouse him enough for him to be hard. He looked towards Bellatrix, who was
playing with herself on the bed next to them, and muttered �You will have to
help me out here, Bella. She does nothing for me.�

She grinned, crawling over so that she was poised on top of
Petunia. Languidly, she took his limp member into her soft hand, stroking him
gently. Lowering her head, she took him into her mouth, tantalizingly swirling
her tongue around the head of his organ before running the tip all the way down
his sizeable length. Finally, she took him in her mouth as far as she could
before her gag reflex kicked in, and applied suction to it as she pulled her
head up, coaxing his member into hardening. He quickly became rock hard in her
hands, and through her sobs, Petunia gasped at his size, knowing that it would
be painful, not to mention degrading.

He caressed Bella�s cheek, saying �Thank you, Bella. That
should do well.� As Bellatrix moved away, pressing one last kiss to the tip of
his penis, he turned to his Aunt with a manic look in his eyes, smirking at her
pleading expression.

She opened her mouth and started �Harry ple-AAAAH!� He
thrust into her roughly, pushing all the way in with one thunderous movement,
stretching her incredibly tight pussy so painfully that she let out a
blood-curdling shriek of pain. She had not, in her fear, become wet, so the
penetration was rough and painful. He bit back a wince even as she screeched in
pain, her organ being torn slightly as the large object violated her harshly.

Laughing cruelly, he began pounding at her, thrusting in
with viciously painful strokes, each eliciting a scream of pain as he mauled
her breasts. Bellatrix, feeling herself get wet and aroused at Harry�s fervor,
pointed her wand into Petunia�s face and snarled �Do as I tell you, bitch, or
you will die very painfully!� Petunia whimpered in pain, managing to nod, but
was shocked as Bella straddled her face, pressing her sopping wet pussy against
her lips.

Understanding what Bella wanted, and hoping for leniency,
she nervously extended her tongue, probing Bellatrix�s pussy with tentative
strokes. At the moan of pleasure, she tried her best to do what was wanted of
her, dearly hoping that she would be left alive. Bellatrix, hovering over her
face, bent towards Harry, pressing kisses against his abdomen and chest as he
pumped away at Petunia. With her right hand, she formed a tight ring around the
base of Harry�s cock, squeezing hard and increasing his pleasure considerably.
Her left hand cupped his balls, massaging them to arouse him further, a fact
that was obvious through his renewed pumping.

He was battering away at her, and vaguely noticed that his
Aunt�s pussy was bleeding. His hands had a rock-hard grip on her bony hips,
causing bruises to appear on her sickly pale skin. Bellatrix was driving him
crazy with her feather-light kisses and her dainty hands caressing him
sensually, and he could feel his climax building up to release. Pulling out of
Petunia completely, he paused, waiting for his arousal to slow down to a
manageable level.

He motioned for Bellatrix to move off Petunia, and with a
pout, she did. He moved to flip Petunia over, but she realized what he had in
mind and tried to struggle. Incensed, he raised his hand and slapped her hard
across the face, nearly dislodging a tooth. She let out a scream of pain, and
whimpering, gave in to him, a small trickle of blood emerging from her split
lip. He successfully flipped her over, and gazed dispassionately at the bony
ass presented to him. Raising his hand, he let fly with a hard slap that
crashed against her ass cheek. She screamed, and he saw the tinge of red
appear. Satisfied, he spent the next several minutes spanking her viciously
until her rump was red and raw, hot to the touch.

Roughly, he groped at her wet pussy, covering his hand in
her juices. Trying to make the best of things, he smeared the lubricating fluid
against her nether hole, pushing in slightly to make his passage easier. Then,
without warning, he pressed his cock against her hole and slammed home, causing
a bloodcurdling shriek from Petunia who was sobbing incoherently. She was even
tighter this way, and he took complete advantage of it, pounding at her
viciously to cause as much pain for her and pleasure for him as possible.

After a few painful minutes for Petunia, he could feel his orgasm
approaching fast, and be pulled out of her roughly. She was whimpering
pathetically, and he dragged her out of the bed with one hand, the other
stroking his throbbing length. He pressed the tip of his penis to her lips,
snarling �If you even think of using your teeth, I�ll rip each of them out!�

Sobbing, she took his length into her mouth, bobbing her
head up and down as Bella stroked him. She was standing behind him, pressed
fully against his body, and her arm was circling his waist so she could grip
his member and stroke it. With a groan of pleasure, he came, filling her mouth
with semen. Petunia choked on the massive mouthfuls as she pulled away,
spitting the second load out and causing it to splatter on her chin and chest.
She looked pathetic, all three holes bleeding because of him, with her upper
body covered in his spunk.

Still breathing hard, he turned around and grabbed Bella in
his arms. She smirked at him, an action that he returned, and he asked �Do you
want her? She can be your slave, to do all that you wish.�

Sneering at the broken woman on the floor, she said �No. She
is of no use to me. I would have nothing to do with this bony, ugly Muggle.
Kill her, Master.� The word �Master� came unbidden from her mouth, and somehow,
she knew it was true. In more ways than one, Harry would be her Master, and
she, his servant.

He smirked at her and kissed her lips. �I have something to
show you, Bella.� She looked at him expectantly, and was shocked as his body
began to change.

A pair of massive leathery wings grew out of his back
seamlessly, emerging as if they were always meant to be there. His fingernails
lengthened into claws that were impossibly sharp, and his musculature grew
impossibly defined, rippling across his body tantalizingly. His eyes turned
completely black, devoid of pupil, iris or sclera, and he opened his mouth in a
sadistic grin, baring fangs that glistened in the light of the room.

However, the most incredible change was that he began to
exude an aura. It was purely sexual, calling to her with an intense whisper
promising pleasure beyond belief. He seemed ethereally beautiful to her, a deity
of untold power who exuded an aura of sexuality that beckoned to her more
powerfully than any Veela could hope for. If he had asked anything of her, she
would agree immediately.

Then, it was gone just as sudden, and he stood there in
front of her in his demonic form, but lacking the sensual aura that he was
emitting a second ago. Clearing her head dazedly, she asked �Harry, what are
you?�

He laughed cruelly, but it sounded incredibly sexy to her, a
deep, musical voice that rolled into her ears and stimulated her.

�I am an Incubus, Bella. Or more accurately, I am a partial
Incubus, which means I don�t feel the random urge to impregnate sleeping women,
and I can switch between my human and demonic appearances, using all my powers
in both forms. You see, my Mother was a quarter Succubus, although her
disgusting sister received none of this power. They were adopted when she was
but a few months old, and her sister a year old by a muggle couple named Evans.
The rest of my heritage is pureblooded, and you might say that my partial
demonic ancestry makes it even more pure. Petunia here is a Squib, and so is
her disgusting son. I must visit Gringotts to find out exactly which line I
come from, for the letter that my mother left me did not mention it. Over the
past two months, I learnt how to change into this form. Being a partial
Incubus, I am what Veela would desire most�a creature of power, strength and
sexuality, far superior in terms of magic and physical abilities than any Wizard,
Vampire, Werewolf or Veela.

�I certainly hope that you will appreciate this�being an
Incubus makes me rather energetic and insatiable in bed. Since the vast
majority of my heritage is human, I keep my mind, but am still gifted with
excessive virility�I daresay some would go so far as to call one such as me a
machine.�

She nodded, still slightly dazed, and blushed at his
implications. Although he could completely turn the effect off, his voice still
had a seductive quality to it that beckoned her to serve his every whim.

�Get dressed,� he said, caressing her cheek gently, �I shall
explain everything to you properly at a later time.� She nodded, and quickly
got dressed. Harry, in the meantime, was staring at Petunia in disgust.

He opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to,
and closed it with an audible click. Petunia was staring at him in utter fear,
shivering and whimpering uncontrollably.

Finally, Harry sneered at her, and with a vicious slash of
his hand, literally tore her head off. He had not been exaggerating when he
said that he was strong. With an explosion of blood that coated the floor and
bed, her head rolled off and smashed against the wall, smearing it in the pulp
that was once his aunt�s brain. Anger visible on his face, he grabbed at her
body before it fell to the ground, and rearing his hand back, he plunged it
into her abdomen, ripping out organs, blood and tissue, effectively
eviscerating her. Almost dismissively, he discarded the body upon the bed,
making the headless corpse leak blood upon the ratty sheets.

Laughing harshly, he shook his hand vigorously, causing the
blood that stained it to sprinkle all over the place. A second later, he was
back in his human form, and he grinned at the sight in front of him. Blood was
everywhere, covering the ground and bed indiscriminately. The tissue and brain
matter that had exploded out of her head when it smashed against the wall added
to the effect, increasing the bloodlust in his eyes. Throwing a hateful glare
at Petunia�s ravaged body, a small choking noise emerged from his throat before
he hawked up a large gob of saliva and spat on her naked chest, adding to the
splatters of semen that already streaked it.

He got dressed, allowing Bella to use cleaning charms on him
to get rid of the blood, but this time decided not to wear the robe. He walked
down the stairs again, his right hand gently resting on Bella�s beautiful
posterior. As they approached Voldemort, Harry squeezed once and lightly
smacked her ass, indicating for her to amuse herself with the remnants of his
family. Apparently the last thirty minutes had seen Vernon
lose an arm, and Dudley to be physically
mauled by bludgeoning curses. He laughed, and approached them slowly as the
others backed off.

The Death Eaters looked at him guiltily, and Nott said �They
began struggling and fighting. We had to subdue them through pain.�

Vernon,
through the haze of pain snarled �We sheltered you, boy! We fed and clothed
you! How dare you do this to us?! I demand that you put us right and leave
immediately!�

Harry flicked his trusty Holly wand, creating a plush chintz
armchair out of nothing. Behind him, Voldemort laughed harshly as he saw Harry
repeat the same trick that Dumbledore always did.

A throaty chuckle emerged from Harry�s throat. �Fed me?
Clothed me? Sheltered me? Of course you did,� he said reasonably, before his
voice took a turn into a decidedly evil tone.

�But it wasn�t quite enough, was it Vernon? Oh no. You see, you had the chance to
make this never happen, but you never took that chance, did you? No�I think
it�s time that I show you just who the real
freak here is.�

Vernon
paled, which was quite an achievement, considering his current state of blood
loss. Harry rose smoothly, and reached into the small pile of materials that he
had gathered from the kitchen. His hand drew back, holding a tin of red chili
powder, causing Vernon
to blanch and try to withdraw shiftily. Of course, being pinned to the wall by
being impaled through the shoulder meant that he didn�t get far at all.

Almost conversationally, as he sprinkled generous amounts of
the powder on Vernon�s
exposed wounds as the fat man screamed, Harry said �You see, when I�m done with
you, you�ll look like a freak. But wait! The pictures that they take of you
will be rather gruesome, but I�m sure you filthy Muggles will call it either
torture, or abstract art. How will it be art, you ask? Because, you see, I will
certainly be creative with the next hour.�

Methodically, over the next hour, Harry tortured Vernon magically and
physically, also using legilimency to stimulate pain within him. Always, he
left Vernon
mere inches from insanity, not willing to allow him that bliss. Then, he proceeded
to laugh harshly as he told Vernon
how he had raped his wife, enthusiastically describing her tightness and how he
had fired his load into her mouth and all over her chest. The tears of pain and
grief running down his face made him laugh harder as he described how Petunia�s
life had ended, with her blood staining the walls and every attainable hole
violated and bleeding. Voldemort laughed harshly the whole time, enjoying what
he thought to be the result of his ceaseless endeavors towards the perversion
of the Golden Boy.

To add insult to injury, Harry grinned and waved his wand,
muttering �Accio Petunia.� The
violated carcass of his Aunt flew down the stairs and deposited itself in front
of them. Vernon
let out a long wail of grief as he saw his wife�s mutilated body piled in front
of him like a destroyed dummy. She had been cut to shreds, head missing and
abdomen torn apart. As his grief-stricken eyes traveled over her, he screamed
as he realized that the boy had not been joking; large puddles of semen covered
her chest and the lower part of her chin, suggesting that his wife had actually
fellated the boy. Eyes holding a defeated light, he looked up at Harry.

The last thing he saw was malicious green eyes boring into
his own as a blue beam of light hit him squarely in the face. The force of the
spell was enough to cause his body to flop off the wall and fall head-first
into the puddle of blood and guts that was his late wife.

After Vernon died when Harry
used an overpowered bludgeoning curse to crush his skull, Harry moved on to Dudley. He tortured Dudley
similarly, but put a special emphasis on physical torture, using his fists to
beat him to a pulp. Almost happily, it seemed, Harry dragged Dudley�s
pants down with some difficulty. Sneering at the boy, he raised his leg and
brought down his heavy boot on the boy�s miniature manhood, mangling it and
literally crushing his testicles. As the boy screamed and cried, Harry laughed.
Through the whole time, he made sure that Voldemort and his henchmen had no idea
that he was an Incubus, or that he had any nonhuman heritage. Bellatrix noticed
this immediately and similarly said nothing, knowing that Harry had purposely
described his attack on Petunia as being accomplished by using magic rather
than physical strength.

When at last, Dudley died,
Harry�s smirk finally faded away. He rose, shaking his hands to remove the
blood from them, and used cleaning spells to remove whatever he couldn�t. He
donned his robe again and stood. He beckoned to Bellatrix, who immediately came
over to him and stood behind him. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at this uncharacteristic
show of obedience from one of his
followers.

Harry then said �This conversation must be between only the
two of us, although Bellatrix must remain.� Voldemort nodded, and waved to his
followers, telling them to leave. They moved to the door, passed the wards, and
apparated away. Of course, before they did so, one of them tripped, waking
Hestia Jones up. She tried to fire a stunner, but a flash of green light prematurely
ended her life.

Harry sank down into the armchair that he had conjured with
a sigh, Bellatrix taking a seat on the armrest where she held his right hand in
hers.

�I was able to free myself from the potions and curses after
your attempt at possessing me. They were weakened by your strength, and I was
able to detect them and dismantle them. Since they were apparently tied to
nothing, Dumbledore doesn�t know of their failure.�

Voldemort nodded pensively. �How did he place them on you?�
he asked, a curious note in his voice.

�When I was first rescued
by Hagrid, he gave me a birthday cake. Apparently, it seems, on the night that
Dumbledore left me here, he took a sample of my blood. He used some sort of
potion in the cake, probably the Memoria
Imperio Potion. All that I gather from it is that it was tied to me through
my blood, which is why it affected only me despite others eating the cake, and
that he used Pensieve memories to implant his intent into my mind. He also put
behavioral spells that restricted my movement and made me more susceptible to
his ideals and commands.�

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair,
tapping his chin with an abnormally long finger. �What do you intend to do now?
I will not try to hide the fact that I would be interested in having you work
with me, not as a servant, but not an equal.�

Harry looked at him seriously and said �I want Bellatrix. In
exchange, I will tell you the prophecy, as long as you remove her mark and all
magical attachments to you. I want her to be completely mine.�

Voldemort laughed. �Very well.� Bellatrix nervously extended
her arm, and Voldemort began chanting in an arcane language, throwing in some
Parseltongue in the middle. Painlessly, it seemed, the mark slowly dissolved
into nothingness, and Bellatrix felt the last vestiges of the link disappear.
She nodded to Harry, who stared at her arm fixatedly for a few seconds.
Blinking, he nodded, satisfied that the aura of darkness that was not exuding
from Bella herself was gone.

Voldemort looked at him curiously and said �You can see
magic?� Harry nodded, replying �It is a minor gift, but I can see magic even at
its lowest possible strength. I cannot manipulate it.�

The Dark Lord nodded, and looked at Harry expectantly.

�The one with the
power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies, born
to those that have thrice defied him. The Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal,
but he shall have the power the Dark Lord knows not. The one with the power to
defeat the Dark Lord approaches.�

He purposely lied, not wanting to let Voldemort know the
last, crucial bit of the Prophecy.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow after a few seconds of thought.
�What is this power that I do not know?�

Harry shrugged. �It might be the fact that I see magic.
Maybe the gift will grow in strength.�

�But I know of it now. Would that affect the prophecy?�

�I think not. I�m pretty sure the line means that I have a
power that you don�t, not that you might have it, but don�t know about it.�
Voldemort nodded pensively.

�What now? Will you fight me? The Prophecy does not seem to
give me a chance, but as it has always been, I work against the will of magic.
You seem to have potential, Potter, so I am willing to hold off our fight in
hopes of a negotiation between us.�

�Truthfully? I�m bored. I can�t be bothered to fight you
now, I�d much rather piss about for a while. I�m sure that at some point we�ll
come to loggerheads, but I�m seriously not in the mood right now. As we are
fated to fight, we will, but there is no reason that it should be done right
now. What negotiations do you refer to?� True to his word, Harry was lazily
reposed on the comfy chair.

�You are made of the same mould that I am, Potter. You are
powerful, apparently an equal to me. I, however, am privy to a lot more
knowledge than you are, and I could teach you this knowledge if you join me. I
am not bold enough to think you na�ve, so I will not lie to you. I am not
interested in an equal. There can only ever be one Dark Lord. You, however,
cannot be my servant. It would be an insult to my honor and yours to make one
gifted with equal power a servant. You would be my apprentice, my second-in
command. Despite my wish for immortality, there is no way for me to feasibly
reach it. To do so through the only way I know would be to sacrifice something
that I cannot give up: my magic. Thus, I would groom you as an heir to continue
the Empire that I shall build. I will hold off our confrontation until you make
a final decision. Be warned: I will expect an oath of loyalty, be it in public
or not. However, I called them negotiations for a reason. You are my equal, so
you deserve a full say in the final terms of our agreement, if one takes
place.�

Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked at Voldemort. �I shall
think on it. At the moment, I have enjoyed a rather trying few hours, and I
look forward to going to sleep.

Voldemort nodded. �True�you must have expended a rather
large amount of magic, considering what you did to two of my Death Eaters and
your disgusting family. I will excuse what you did to the Lestrange brothers,
their magic was diminished by Azkaban, and their skills were worse than rusty.
Very well, I shall make my leave now. However, do not expect me to be lenient
the next time we meet, Potter. The prophecy seems to say that you will win, but
it does not say it outright. I still am capable of harming you.�

He rose, and withdrew his wand to apparate.

�Wait. I don�t want to fall back into Dumbledore�s hands
either. How about you �capture� me? I�d rather appreciate a chance to have some
fun with Wormtail, and perhaps go on a revel or two. After all, I have to have
some fun.� Harry spoke with a hint of malice in his voice.

�Hmm? Interesting proposal, Potter, but how will you go
about making it look realistic? I admit I have no real need for him; the rat
served his purpose a year ago. A revel? It seems those dreams have revealed
more than what was permissible. I shall have to look into terminating this
link, it is most inconvenient. If you wish to go on one, then I find that an
encouraging sign, what with the negotiations I mentioned.�

Harry grinned. He stood up, moving towards a less soiled
part of the floor. Withdrawing a kitchen knife from the pile of things that he
had hastily overlooked in favor of physical torture, he took a breath and
stabbed himself through the palm, causing blood to drip to the floor. Through
gritted teeth, he breathed as he waited until a small puddle had formed on the
floor.

Finally, he pulled out the blade and cast a healing charm on
himself, gasping with pain as the wound knitted together again. Waving his
wand, he cast an enlargement charm on the puddle of blood, causing it to grow
into a rather large puddle. Then, with a few spells, he splashed some blood
across the wall and the floor, making it look like he was tortured quite
painfully.

With abandon, he fired a few Cruciatus curses around,
hitting the blood with them to show signs of magically caused trauma in his
blood. He grinned as he saw the carnage, and turned back around. He was met
with an almost approving nod from Voldemort, who waved his wand over one of Vernon�s fingers, turning
it into a portkey.

Harry spent a minute getting his things into his trunk, and
picking up his broom. Before he left the room, a sadistic grin crossed his face
as he snapped Hedwig�s wings, and then twisted her neck to terminate her life.
An owl was the least of his concerns, and Dumbledore�s tracking charms on her
were far from conducive to his plans. One last look around, and they left,
collapsing the wards on their way out. One of the Death Eaters had had the
foresight to cast the Dark Mark into the sky above Privet
Drive, so it was guaranteed that the Order would emerge shortly.

As they reappeared in an opulently furnished mansion, Harry
smirked at the dumbstruck look on the face of the Death Eater who was standing
guard by the door.

�Show Mr. Potter to one of the guest rooms!� Voldemort
snapped, causing the stupefied Death Eater to jump to attention. The man pulled
his wand out threateningly, causing Voldemort to snarl �Crucio. I did not mean the dungeons, you imbecile. Show him to a
guest room!�

Shaking, he quickly followed commands, knowing that it would
be stupid of him to dilly-dally.

A few minutes later found Harry entering a large room with a
comfortable bed and a crackling fireplace to quell the slight chill in the
dusky air of the Manor. Waving his hand dismissively, he ushered the Death
Eater out, and cast a few privacy wards on the door. Turning around, he grinned
laconically at Bellatrix, his expression quite suggestively to the point.

�Well, Bella, whatever shall we do now?� he whispered,
stalking towards her.

With cat-like grace, he circled her, eyes roving over her
body with lust glinting in them. He circled around to her front and cupped her
breasts, weighing them in his hands as his thumbs flicked over her nipples. She
was breathing hard and fast as she threw her head back, hands clutching at his
upper arms. Slowly, he divested her of her clothing, nipping at her skin with
his teeth. He removed her bra with feather light movements, and buried his face
into her cleavage, massaging the large breasts in his hands as he sucked on the
skin in the valley between them.

When his lips finally found her mouth, the ensuing kiss was
passionate, yet slow. Her arms were around his neck, holding him against her,
and his right hand held the back of her head while his left rested on her hip.
Her mouth tasted spicy, like good rum. She was a phenomenal kisser, not sucking
away at his mouth but caressing it lovingly. He moaned into her mouth as she
cupped him, squeezing gently, and he gripped onto her tighter, pressing her
hard against his body. They parted, breathing heavily with lustful glints in
their eyes.

He grabbed her, throwing her bodily onto the bed and
clambering on top where he resumed his ravaging of her mouth as he massaged her
breast with one hand, the other propping his body up. She moaned as her lips
dislodged from his and bit down on his neck to stifle the scream as he pushed a
finger into her. Suddenly, he was standing a few feet away from her, causing
her to scowl through the haze of pleasure at the lack of skin contact.

An absent wave of his hand caused his clothes to vanish, and
he beckoned her to him, smirking. Instead of going to him, she smirked right
back and beckoned him over, her other hand massaging her pussy. A slight grin
on his face, he walked over, and she pushed him onto the bed in a sitting
position. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, she reverently took his
hardness into her hands, scrutinizing it closely.

The expression of reverence and worship on her face was an
aphrodisiac for him as his member throbbed insistently in her hands, straining
against the soft flesh that held him. Her eyes were wide as his cock pulsated,
as she had apparently noticed that even while she held him with both hands, a
large part of his cock still extended out of her grip.

She gave a tentative lick, feeling slightly awkward now that
the sexual atmosphere from earlier was gone, taking her sudden sense of
liberation with it. At his responding groan, her tongue darted out again,
sweeping the few leaking drops of pre-cum away. Slowly, she stroked him, taking
the head of his cock into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. Her
movements were slow, tantalizingly arousing him as she teasingly touched and
licked him. Minutes passed as neither showed any signs of tiring with the slow
pace of their actions. Finally, Harry gave up just as she traced her tongue
slowly from the base of his penis to the crown, and he grabbed her shoulders,
hauling her into the air.

Her surprised squeak was muffled by his lips as he kissed
her, tongue roving around in her mouth gently. He laid her down on her back,
and she prepared to be penetrated, but was shocked as he straddled her stomach
instead.

With a glint of insane passion in his eyes, he said �I�m not
done with you yet, sweetheart.� His hands gripped her large breasts, squeezing
slightly, and he maneuvered his body such that his cock was flat against her
chest, nestled in the valley between her breasts. He pushed her breasts
together, causing them to clench around his member, allowing her to feel the
slick sensation of her saliva on it. She leaned her head up, propping a pillow
under her head, and looked down at her breasts where she could see the head of
his cock protruding out from between them.

Rocking back and forth, he began thrusting, using her
breasts to stimulate him. With each thrust, his cock pushed all the way up to
her lips and then back again. After her initial shock at the position faded
away, she quickly became excited again, and as his cock moved up towards her
face again, she pressed a kiss to the head, causing him to shudder in ecstasy.
She opened her mouth, and with each new thrust, took him in and lathered it
with her tongue, tickling and arousing him. After minutes of rutting away
between her generous breasts, his arousal had become incredibly heightened, and
with a short moan of pleasure at her last lick, he rose on his haunches,
stroking his member rapidly. Rather than rise up to meet his explosion, she
closed her eyes, a slight smile on her lips, and stroked his thighs. With a cry
of passion, he came, splattering his seed on her face and breasts, having to
steady himself with one arm as his body heaved.

Her eyes opened again, her smile growing into a grin as she
saw him poised above her, panting deeply. With a finger, she scooped up some of
the spunk on her chest and licked it away, moaning slightly at the taste. He
waved a hand, and she watched in absolute shock as he used wandless magic to
clean his cum off her. Moving off, he laid down on the bed next to her, turning
on his side to look her in the eye. She leaned into his touch as he caressed
her cheek, shivering at the intensity of his eyes.

A look of desperation entered her eyes as she whispered
�Make me come, please.� Smirking, he pulled her on top of him so that she was
straddling his hips, cunt rubbing against his deflated member. She moved to
stroke him to hardness, but was stopped by Harry, who licked her earlobe,
whispering �Not so fast, sweetheart. I told you that you would be mine, and so
I shall make you mine.�

Again, his body changed as his eyes turned black, and his
body suddenly rippled with muscles. This time, however, the wings did not
appear. The blanketing aura of sexuality emerged again, seeping into her mind
with all the subtlety of a rampaging Hippogriff. A low keen escaped her lips,
turning into a sigh of pleasure as she melted into his embrace, leaning her
head against his chest. Gently, he repositioned her head so that it lay angled
on his chest, presenting her neck to his lips.

Arms wrapped around her midriff, he lowered his head to her
neck, kissing the creamy skin experimentally. She sighed again, shifting in his
arms elatedly. Her arousal was more than evident, as he felt her dripping cunt
slowly shower his crotch in a slightly viscous fluid, the intoxicating scent of
her sex permeating the air around them like a thick cloak of pleasure. He
lathered her neck with wet kisses, sucking and tugging at her skin gently, and
feeling her muscles relax entirely against him.

Then, without warning, he smirked behind her head, and
gently bit down on her neck with glistening white fangs, breaking the skin. A
yowl of pain tore itself from her throat, but that was all the movement she was
able to accomplish, as the grip that he had on her body and head prevented her
from moving.

Through the haze of uncertainty that suddenly veiled her
mind, a deep sorrow filled her soul. She had been used�she was no more than a
toy for him. He had used her ruthlessly, playing on her insecurities to crumble
her shield in one quick blow. He had her under the impression that he truly
felt something for her, that he truly wanted her as much as she wanted him.
But, she reflected, preparing to embrace death, it was all for naught�the great
Bellatrix Black, scourge of the Magical World was about to die at the hands of
a barely pubescent teenager, naked and used consensually. He had tasted of her
flesh, taken the last shreds of her innocence with admirable gusto. He had done
for her what no man had done before�he had treated her like a woman, he had
promised her a great future. But some wounds ran too deep, she reflected, for the
murder of his Godfather had obviously changed him, turning him into the
calculating, manipulative man that now held her naked body to his.

She was not na�ve, she had known that she would eventually
die, and had imagined a glorious ending, dying in a hailstorm of curses as she
single-handedly routed a battalion of Aurors to aid her lord and master. She
had not envisioned anything like this�to die having had her allegiances taken
away, her mark gone. Death would come, she felt, as it would to a galleon-whore
in Knocturn Alley, covered in the juices of her endeavors as her blood joined
the fatal recipe.

She was wrong.

As she prepared to die, the orgasm struck her. It was as if
an entire beating was compressed into a microsecond, except that she felt immeasurable
pleasure rather than pain. A scream, primal and earthy, tore itself from the
depths of her soul as she felt every nerve in her body become hyper-stimulated
by never ending pleasure. If she was wet before, she was practically dripping
now, a flood of musky fluid emerging from deep within her loins to coat her
lover�s manhood in her scent. Tears leaked from her eyes, not from pain or
sorrow but from the incredible pleasure that she was being subjected to. She
rode the crest of her orgasm for what seemed like days, being unable to form a
single coherent thought in her mind. When, at long last, the pleasure began
diminishing, she could only compare the experience to one thing: enduring the
Cruciatus for minutes at a time, but having the entire experience condensed
into a single second of pleasure rather than agony.

Below her, Harry had bit down into her neck, releasing a
toxin through his fangs. The Demonic toxin was native only to Incubi�the fluid
that resided in small venom sacs near the vampire-like fangs in the demon�s
mouth. It was this fluid that the Incubus used to mark its mates, forever
binding it into a bond of love, passion and slavery. She was now truly his, and
could and would never belong to another. As he had told her, he would make her
his, and this last orgasm, the effect of the toxin, bound her to his will like
slave to master. She was his alpha�the leader of his bonded. She was the first,
his lieutenant, so to speak of the collection of women that would form his
pack. In the ranks, her authority was just under his, and so it would remain
forever.

The blood that released from her neck, the precious
lifeblood that seeped from her veins now entered his mouth, and as ecstasy
rolled through his body, he swallowed. An aura of magic as black as their
hearts unfurled around them, a dark nimbus of light reflecting the soul of the
Master and that of his slave.

Gently, he extracted his fangs from her neck, gingerly
lapping up the lifeblood that trickled slowly from the four identical punctures
in her throat. As his tongue flicked over the wounds, they closed seamlessly,
leaving naught but a few trickles of blood diluted in his saliva.

She was panting, slowly coming off her high. His hand gently
caressed the side of her head, stroking the line where the creamy smoothness of
her skin morphed into the silky softness of her hair. Slowly, her head rose,
and she looked deep into his eyes with bloodshot, unfocused ones of her own.
Trembling, as her eyes lost their vacant look, her eyelids closed, allowing a
tear to be squeezed out of her left eye.

Entranced, he watched as it rolled down her cheek, a trail
of glistening moisture left in its wake. Tenderly, he cupped her cheek in his
palm, relishing the contact of his slightly calloused palm against the soft,
malleable flesh of her cheek. He leaned his head up ever so slightly, and
brushed his nose against hers before he claimed her lips in a gentle kiss,
evoking feelings within her that she thought were lost. She finally pulled away
from him, a slow movement that looked beautiful to him. With her eyes closed,
the spark of malice in them now veiled, she looked as innocent and delicate as
a nun.

Slowly, violet eyes opened again, the currently suppressed
glint of insanity still evident as the simple action changed her from innocent
to crazed. Tenderly, she cupped his cheeks in her hands, softly caressing his
face, and whispered forlornly �I�m so sorry. I thought the worst of you for a
moment there.�

His thumb gently touched her lips as he continued watching
her, eyes filled with undisguised desire and amazement. She fell silent, not
knowing what more she could say.

At long length, his amazed exploration of her face ceased,
and he blinked away the sudden look of ambiguous longing in his eyes. �Don�t
apologize, Bella. It was understandable.�

She nodded demurely, eyes looking anywhere but into the
expressive pools that were his eyes. At some time during the bonding, he had
slipped back into his human form, and now emerald eyes stared into hers with
emotions blaring from their cores.

�What- what was that?� she whispered, still caressing his
cheeks.

A slow smile spread on his face. �You are mine now. You are
my Alpha, you will be the leader of my women. You are my first�you are the one
who can never be replaced, never be lost. I am now yours as much as you are
mine.�

She swallowed down the emotion that threatened to rise
explosively from deep within her. �Thank you, Master,� she smiled, the word
rolling off her tongue with much greater ease than before.

She moved to pleasure him again, but her body swayed
dizzily, and she nearly fell off the bed.

�Sleep,� he whispered, holding her limp body against his.
�The bonding is always hard on your magic.�

Sighing, she melted into his embrace, burying her head into
the crook of his neck. Slowly, her breath evened, and she fell asleep quickly.
He joined her soon, the calming sensation of her breath playing across his skin
lulling him to sleep.
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Fury of the Hellspawn: The Tale of an Incubus