Fury of the Hellspawn: The Tale of an Incubus | By : apocalypso Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 39864 -:- 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 4: The Revel and Torture
Harry relaxed back into the embrace, sighing peacefully.
He was in the bed in the Guest Room at Voldemort's castle, accompanied by
Narcissa. Narcissa was propped up on the pillows, sitting with her back at an
upward angle. Harry was resting between her legs, back towards her, the back of
his head nestled between her breasts as she stroked his shoulders. She was
still naked, having apparated out without donning her clothes again. Harry,
similarly, was naked, reposed rather comfortably in the seat he had fashioned,
using her thighs as arm-rests.
He tapped his chin with his finger, pondering what to do
with Draco. Currently, the boy was tied up on the floor, thrashing fitfully in
anger. Harry was in a fix. On one hand, he had waited for this moment for
years, always having a slight desire to torture Draco Malfoy until he snapped.
On the other hand, the beautiful woman currently massaging his shoulders had
endured far worse from him, and deserved the right to make the irritating boy
scream. He had been a constant burden over the years, treating her like his
father did…a simple trophy, one that deserved no respect.
His hand found her thigh, stroking the smooth skin as he
mused. Narcissa leaned her head down, placing a kiss on his neck, biting down
slightly.
“I am unable to make a decision, Narcy, dear. So, what we
will do is torture him mentally first.” He waved his wand, causing Draco to
lift off the ground, screaming bloody, silent murder. A few swishes later,
Draco was stiff as a board, and was pasted to the wall, facing the bed and
sitting area.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow, asking “How, Master?”
Caressing her flesh languidly, he replied “Let him watch
us…I want to fuck you in front of him again, to add insult to injury. After we
deal with Wormtail, we can put an end to him.”
Draco had gone deathly pale, the idea of being forced to
watch his mother have sex with his worst enemy, and then die at their hands
banging about in his head. Noticing this, Narcissa laughed harshly, trailing a
hand down Harry’s stomach, caressing his skin. “Excellent idea, Master. Look at
him pale…this should be fun. When do you wish to start?”
Harry laughed delightedly, taking her hand in his. Her
cruel streak shouldn’t have been surprising to him, but yet, he found himself
admiring her cruelty. “Not quite yet, sweetheart. Wait for Bella to return…I’m
sure Draco dear would absolutely love to see me fuck his Mother and Aunt.” She
laughed again, and kissed his neck.
Bellatrix had, upon returning to the Castle, decided to go
to the room that she formerly occupied and remove her belongings from it. She
hated House-Elves, and did not trust them to take care of personal business
such as that. She would return in a matter of minutes…after all, it only required
a few simple packing spells.
Talking to her over the past fifteen minutes had been
revealing to him. She was very emotional once she felt open, unlike her Sister,
who exorcised her demons by taking out her frustration on her victims.
Apparently, she loved painting, and she used it as an outlet for her pent up
emotion, having stifled it for years. Now, he had promised her, she could
express herself in any ways she wanted, be it torture, sex or even love. He was
not adverse to the idea of receiving the love of this wondrous, beautiful
woman…with time, he would come to love her, too. She was rather like he had
been, bottling up her emotions, and fighting against the way that life dealt
her a bad hand. In any case, he had no intention to use such a wondrously
beautiful woman as a slave…that position could easily be filled by someone far
less attractive.
Taking her hand, he maneuvered them so that she had
slipped out from under him, and was now straddling his lap, sitting upright. He
leaned back into the pillows, admiring her beauty. His hand rose to cup her
cheek, and he drew her in for a kiss, easing her lips open to tease her with
his tongue. When he drew away from the kiss, he opened his eyes to note the
happiness in hers. Her entire face had lit up happily, contentment showing in
her features. Apparently, she had never been kissed this lovingly before.
Smiling, he pulled her to him, and rested her head on his chest, gently
stroking her hair.
He was being rather emotional, true, but it was not out of
character for him. Being a Demon did not make someone a heartless bastard…it
simply introduced an appreciation for some of the finer points of life, such as
blood, sex and torture. His personality did not change drastically, it had
simply been augmented.
Looking up, he noted the hate on Draco’s face, and smirked
at him. Draco could only see his mother’s back from his angle, and Harry had
plans to change that. Flashing a smirk, he slowly and deliberately leaned
Narcissa back, gradually exposing her front to her son. When she was on her
back, he leaned forward as well, still smirking at him, and began gently
stroking her body. He started with her abdomen, pressing gentle kisses on her
skin, and slowly moved to her chest, where he massaged her breasts gently, sucking
on her nipples. She moaned, increasing Draco’s anger, and clutched the back of
his head tightly, smashing her chest into Harry’s face.
He laughed, pulling her back into a sitting position.
Draco’s face seemed to show some relief, as he thought the torture was over.
Harry tossed a sneer towards him, and moved Narcissa off his lap. Stroking her
hair, he gently guided her face near to his crotch, where she complied with his
desires quite excitedly. The look on Draco’s face was one of pure torture as he
saw Narcissa take Harry’s member into her mouth. She had such a loving
expression on her face that it made him sick to the stomach.
Before he was fully hard, he stopped Narcissa, gently
pulling her back up. She pouted at him, but he laughed it off, waving his hand
dismissively as he said “Remember, we have to wait for Bellatrix.”
She pouted again, but acquiesced, leaning into his embrace
contentedly.
A few minutes later, Bellatrix returned, her arrival
heralded by a hiss of air next to the bed. Dropping the shrunken luggage on the
couch, she took in the scene with a raised eyebrow, and said “You started
without me? A shame.”
Harry grinned, beckoning her into the bed. Smirking, she
shook her head, and turned to Narcissa.
“Narcy, dear…help me out here, will you?” she called, the
smirk never leaving her features. Narcissa obediently got off the bed, breasts
swaying gently, and knelt before Bellatrix, awaiting her command.
For a few seconds, a look of bliss appeared on Bella’s
face as she realized the ramifications of having control over her sister. Then,
finally snapping back to attention, she said “Disrobe me…slowly. Make it
pleasurable for our Master.” The look of unveiled passion in her eyes directed
towards him startled the young demon. This sudden uplift in emotion was either
her showing possessiveness…or her finally understanding what Harry expected
from her: the truth of what her character really was.
Narcissa, while emotionless during Bella’s first command,
now grinned, apparently far from put off by the command. Standing, she walked
around Bellatrix, standing close behind her. Her nimble fingers slowly undid
the robe, and slid it off her sister. She pressed a kiss to Bella’s neck, hands
roaming over her body, and hefted the large breasts in her hands, stroking them
gently. She made short work of removing the white shirt, and slipped it off
slowly. Bella wore nothing but her pants and corset now, her head leant back in
pleasure as Narcissa’s lips found her neck once more. The soft hands once more
ghosted over her skin, stroking so softly that the action was enough to make
Harry hard. Within seconds, the rest of Bella’s clothes lay strewn around the
room, the look of giddy happiness never once leaving Narcissa’s face.
Taking her sister’s hand, Narcy lead Bellatrix to the bed,
gently laying her down on it, her back against the soft mattress. She climbed
on top, her hair falling to create a curtain of beauty that veiled Harry’s view
of their faces. His hand gently lifted the blonde hair, moving it over her head
to allow it to fall on the other side, allowing him to watch them unrestricted.
Tenderly, Narcy kissed Bellatrix, easing her lips open gently. Their tongues
touched, swirling around each other in an erotic dance, hands roaming over each
others’ bodies with abandon, touching, stroking, pinching and teasing.
“Bella,” Narcy moaned, shuddering as Bellatrix’s hands
gently massaged her chest, “I never even dreamed you were this beautiful!”
Corny as the line was, the overwhelming sincerity with which it was said was
obvious.
Bellatrix, a smug smirk on her face, rewarded her new Aide
by slipping her right hand down her abdomen, fingers sliding along the moist
slit that shrouded the intimate path to the blonde’s center. The accompanying
moan caused Harry’s cock to leap, jerking him to near-painful hardness. As much
as it tore at him to watch, and refrain from participating, this was far too
beautiful to interrupt.
It was a symphony…a beautiful meld of black hair with blond
as two utterly gorgeous women touched each other so tentatively, stroking each
other with such gentle, bridled actions. Their hair, smooth and silky, fell
into a pile together as their lips met again, the sudden contrast of gold on
black seeming far more profound to Harry than anything he had ever encountered
before. It was an epiphany, his epiphany, one that brought him no real insight,
but rather gifted him with a sudden realization of something that he should
have noticed before. This…was perfection.
Bellatrix growled deep within her throat, the nagging
sensation of wetness between her legs making her look towards Harry for
completion. Sexy, alluring and altogether pleasure-inducing though Narcissa
was, she could not, within the parameters of reality, satisfy her like her
Master had. His domination was what she ached for, nectar tantalizingly out of
reach at the moment, even if it was only by a few inches. The fire and
desperation in her eyes, bridled yet unrestrained at the same time, dimmed in
urgency at the look on his face. Pure peace reigned in his expression…a
recognition of something so profound that it stymied her.
Mind racing, she wondered what could possibly ensnare one
as powerful as her Master. When realization finally dawned upon her, a blush of
embarrassment mixed with no small amount of lust crossed her face. Looking
down, she tried to see what about the act between the ladies could affect him
so. It was a revelation startling enough to entirely stop her.
Pink lips, slightly puffy, yet delectable, hung suspended
a bare inch above her left nipple; a visage that bore incredible beauty,
attached to those celestial lips, panted deeply, drawing in gulps of air. A
thin strand of saliva connected her nipple with Narcissa’s mouth, the image at
once shocking, embarrassing, exciting and sensual. This, though it had
superficiality laced through it, was true beauty…an evaluation of the sexual
side of their personas so deeply engrained in her mind – an image so flimsy,
yet profound enough to leave an imprint in her mind that burned through her
conscious.
Pouting, full lips moved as Narcissa looked up, the strand
of saliva snapping unconsciously. The delectable taste of her sister’s flesh in
her mouth, Narcissa paused. She missed the look on her counterpart’s face
entirely, seeing something far from mystifying. Wonder registered on her face
as she gazed at her sister in frank appreciation, thoughts flying through her
mind faster than her brain could register. The utter perfection of her view
sent her heart racing, the unconscious sensuality of the situation making her
swoon in a mixture of incredulity and lust…incredible lust. Patches of wet skin
on Bella’s neck and chest glistened in the lamp-light of the room, the slight
flicker of the flame somehow throwing a myriad of colors and shades across her
sister’s flesh. It was as if everything was blurred, all of a sudden, the only
discernable feature in the shapeless mass before her being the pair of familiar
violet eyes reflecting an amalgamation of emotions so unreadable that it
confused her. Only one thing remained in her mind – need…one that she would
satisfy.
A confused “Urk!” erupted from Bella’s mouth before her
lips were claimed harshly, the kiss demanding, yet slow. Tongues warred as
emotions rose and spilled, each woman, a goddess in her own right, grappling
and clutching at each other with all the urgency in the world. Fingers danced
as hands stroked, the climax coming as a surprise to both of them. An explosion
of colors, tastes, sounds, smells and sensations struck them at once, the force
behind the climax causing each to fall limp in the other’s arms. Less than a
foot away, Harry erupted, his climax startling, since he had made no move to
stimulate himself. Thick ropes of semen flew through the air, splattering
across all who were strewn across the bed. Stunned, the curious geometry of
their bodies seemed to take on a new meaning for him, forming equations both
complex and simple.
As if they were one, two dainty hands reached out
simultaneously, fingers swirling in the result of his eruption. Twin tongues
flicked out at extended fingers, licking his contribution away with…it couldn’t
simply be described as gusto, he decided. As one, again, the hands reached out,
clutching at his flesh possessively, twin expressions of veneration crossing female
faces as they prostrated themselves at his altar. His eyes closed as his head
leaned back, leaving the two women with some measure of privacy as they
proceeded to lick the spunk away from his body and theirs. Finally sated, they
came together again, the kiss so slow that movements were imperceptible. It was
a joining…one could not tell where the blonde started, and where the brunette
joined, yet the passion was palpable as it shimmered in the air between them,
the musky smell of their arousal no longer prevalent over their combined magics
and emotions.
Eyelids flicked open again, baring the fiery emerald eyes
that would one day watch possessively over all he owned: the world.
Immediately, persistent thoughts of violence and perverse pleasure died away,
bowing before the sensations arisen by the two women before him, subserviently
waiting for his permission to pleasure him. Musing, he reflected on just how
powerful simple emotions were, and how simple pleasures brought such
excitement. An indulgence in the flesh of another was something he had
engrained into his very essence, a primal need to copulate, to spread pleasure
like the joys of Yule.
Draco, bound and stuck to the wall, had his eyes pressed
shut tightly, shaking his head to and from in denial. It was a bad dream…it had
to be! He, Draco Malfoy, was bound to the wall, while his mother and aunt were…fucking
on the bed! Despite his denial, and despite the silent screams of anger that
emitted from his mouth, the lump in his trousers was more than obvious, his
arousal a result of the two beautiful women on the bed.
He had not moved, still reposed lazily in the middle of
the huge bed. While he had been distracted, his mates had crept closer to him,
each straddling one of his thighs. Leaning forward caused their hair to slip
off their shoulders and land silkily on his abdomen, jerking him back to
reality. Soft kisses were pressed to his flesh, the actions both exciting and
teasing. As his member stiffened, the blonde and the brunette gripped him at the
base, their hands enveloping each other’s as they held his length. He watched,
mesmerized, as their heads dipped down slowly, lips gently grazing each side of
the head, gently trailing down the shaft of his member. He moaned as their
tongues joined the action, slowly but surely covering his member in slick
saliva. Bellatrix finally grew tired of the erotic stimulations she was helping
in, and gently enveloped the head of his cock with her mouth. The gasp that
rose out of Harry’s mouth was music to her ears as she moved him farther into
her mouth inch by inch. The choking sound that emerged as she gagged was a bit
shocking to her…she had taken him as far as possible, but was unable to
deep-throat him. She tried again, moving her lips down his length, forcing herself
to fulfill the task she had set for herself. Once again, she was angered by her
failure…it was impossible!
Frustration burning in her eyes, she pulled her head up
and off his cock, glaring at him accusingly. Nonplussed, he stared back, dimly
aware of the exotic look of flushed beauty on her face. Her scowl faded, and
she commanded Narcissa to play with herself on one side of the bed…she had
something to take care of. An appreciative light entered Harry’s eyes as he
recognized the barely checked look of insanity in her eyes, the contained lust
and malevolence that were characteristic of his Alpha. Roughly straddling his
lap, she bent to kiss him hard, drawing away from the heated kiss to growl
“Take me, hard!”
Appreciation glinted among the madness in her eyes as he
smirked, grabbing her roughly as he flipped them over, nearly knocking Narcissa
off the bed. His hands restrained hers as he bit down on her neck teasingly,
with a tad bit more force than could be called passionate. She was sopping wet…the
slick sensation of her wetness brushing against the head of his cock. Grinning,
he thrust in, the rough action eliciting a howl of pain and ecstasy from his
Alpha, her eyes shut tight as the pleasure overloaded her brain. With each
thrust, an accompanying whimper from Narcissa, a groan from Harry, and a muted
howl from Bellatrix joined to create the cacophony of passion that rang in the
room. As the two rutted against each other like animals in heat, a just
description, Narcissa fondled herself in desperation, longing for her Master to
fill her like he had before. The image of her Master, wielding such power and
sexuality, thrusting into her screaming sister burned into her mind, the
arousal simply heightening what she already felt. Fingers nimbly danced between
her legs, the action being one that she had performed often in the seventeen
years of marriage that she had had to endure.
Even as her eyes closed shut, they snapped open again.
Bellatrix had climaxed so forcefully that she had jerked up hard enough to
impact against her Master, the force enough to carry them over the side of the
bed. Apparently, he had lifted her legs, placing the back of her calves on his
shoulders, allowing him to thrust deep within her. Her jerking up had,
naturally, rolled the two of them off the bed in a sweaty, sated heap. Amidst
the pleasure that clouded her mind, the humor of the situation overwhelmed her,
and she gasped out a laugh, looking at her sister and her Master on the floor,
surprise plastered on their faces. Of course, as soon as Harry turned his gaze
towards her, lust glinting in his eyes maniacally, she silenced herself.
Standing up after dislodging himself from within
Bellatrix, he helped his Alpha back onto the bed, and stalked towards Narcissa.
His hand gently grasped her neck, pulling her close, and his lips found hers in
a hard kiss, each attempting to force the other’s mouth open. Harry moaned into
her mouth, finding the taste of Bella’s flesh on her tongue more than arousing.
Pulling his mouth off hers, he pulled her off the bed, leading her towards
Draco, a cruel glint in his eyes. His wand emerged out of nowhere, the wave
causing Draco’s neck to turn to the side, now parallel to the wall. Another
wave forcibly held Draco’s eyes open, allowing him to blink no more than five
times in a minute.
The glare on the slimy boy’s face was hilarious, the rage
so open and impotent that it made the whole emotion seem like a threat, a
pathetically hopeless one. The glare, insipid as it was, died down before the
depth and power of the expression on Harry’s face, being unable to compare to
such hate. Roughly grasping his throat, fingers digging into the pale skin,
Harry leaned in and hissed “Watch, Draco, as I ruin you. Watch me harm you more
than you could ever dream to.”
Withdrawing, the hateful sneer being replaced by a look of
passion as he gazed at Narcissa, he ignored Draco’s pitiful resistance, the
ropes that bound him being more than sufficient in restraining the boy.
His hand drifted up to cup Narcy’s cheek, the touch gentle
and loving. She was not like her sister in this…her cruel streak, impressive as
it was, did not allow for rough handling. She would forever be a princess, a
woman with frailties. She had not weathered the worst that life could throw at
her, and unlike her sister, would revel in the warmth and security that
lovemaking brought…she did not wish for the brutality and physicality of sex,
seeing it more as an expression of passion than an outlet for lust. Gentleness
was the way to her heart, and Harry recognized and appreciated it.
Odd as it was, he rather enjoyed the sudden turn from sexual
domination to slow lovemaking. She leaned into his touch, molding her body
against his until he was pulled flush against her. Wrapping his arm around her
waist, he stroked her cheek with his other hand, gazing tenderly into her eyes.
The bonding between Incubus and Mate was two-sided…it not only bound the mate
to the Incubus, but also bound the Incubus to the Mate. His head dipped down,
gently capturing her lips in a kiss. He simply delighted in the softness of her
lips, the warmth of her body, not making a move to find her tongue.
Moving her to the wall, bare inches away from where Draco
was stuck to it, he broke the kiss, leaning in again to press a kiss to her neck.
She shuddered in his arms, and read his mind perfectly, giving a short hop as
she straddled his waist in mid-air, wrapping her legs around his body. She
could feel his erect member throb against her inner thigh, and felt the
sensation of fluids streaking between her legs as she yearned for their
melding. Gazing into her eyes, Harry kissed her again, and moved his hands to
cup her buttocks, holding her in the air. Smiling slightly, she reached down,
positioning his length between the wet lips of her sex. Eyes shut tightly; she
lowered herself onto him, taking him in inch by inch. The spread of her legs
was such that he was able to fill her entirely, being able to reach as far into
her as he could. He moaned, feeling the incredible tightness of her snatch
envelop him.
When, at last, she let go of the breath she held, she
pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, wrapping her arms around his neck,
releasing the breath in a low keen. The hairs on the back of his neck trembled
as he shivered in anticipation, moaning as he felt Narcissa’s hot sheath
envelop him, enclosing his member in pleasurable tightness and heat. Emboldened
by her signal, he began moving within her, ignoring the desperation that he
felt as he made each movement last eons. With a bare few thrusts, she climaxed,
the arousal brought on by her own ministrations having built up to orgasm. It
was mild, since the movements were slow, but impressive nonetheless, far better
than the ones she had induced to herself over her years of marriage. Harry gasped,
the tightening of her muscles and the sudden lubrication nearly causing him to
let go and climax. As it was, he was warring, trying to keep from climaxing
just yet, and the tightness of her muscles felt like she was coaxing the sperm
out of him.
Minutes later, Harry was breathing tightly, doing all he
could to keep from climaxing until she did so for a second time. She was
moaning, whimpering his name and gasping pleasurably with each movement, her
hands clutching at him in desperation. In their position, her head was bent,
resting on his neck as she gasped loudly, unable to even move as the pleasure
began swarming her mind. The orgasm was coming, she could feel it, and she
embraced it with open arms as it arrived. With such slow, arduous lovemaking, the
climax for both of them had built up to such shattering proportions that it
would literally cause them to go delirious with pleasure. Sure enough, it
struck, a massive tidal wave of pleasure slamming into her nerve centers,
igniting each nerve with never ending pleasure, She rocked in his arms, muscles
twitching, letting out a scream so powerful that it reverberated off the walls,
the sound of her pleasure now eternally imprinted into the walls of this
castle, a signal of pleasure so out of place in the dreary, negative atmosphere
that the castle unconsciously gave off.
The clenching of her muscles, the sudden influx of the
unique scent of her arousal, the shudder of her body in his arms, each aspect
heightened his arousal to a maximum. The quiver of her muscles, taut breasts
shaking, causing hardened nipples to scrape against his chest…it all came
together for him, one singe second of sensation far beyond the boundaries of
human perception. With a heave, a shuddering sigh and a gasp of pleasure, he climaxed,
the involuntary bucking of his hips allowing his seed to penetrate far within
her womb. Gasping for breath, still seeing stars, he slumped against her, molding
his body against hers as he indulged in the heat and comfort that her body
provided. His breath played about her neck, limp muscles shifting under their
skin as their exhaustion receded ever so slowly. A slow smile spread on her
face, the expression radiant. Threading her fingers through his hair, she
cradled his head against her neck, hands stroking his scalp soothingly as she
whispered breathless words into his ear, the verbal expression of their
experience coming out as short gasps of pleasure.
Bellatrix, nestled into the pillows on the bed, gasped out
her own orgasm, her fingers still buried inside her pussy. As the daze cleared,
her view moved from Harry and Narcissa to Draco. The boy’s eyes were bulging, growing
red as he tried to force his body to overcome the spell holding his eyes open.
His mouth was contorted into a scream, tears of frustration leaking down his
cheeks. Despite the obvious mental anguish he was in, a silent gasp issued from
his mouth as he spilled himself in his pants, the bulge in the front of his
trousers deflating in the wake of the wet spot that appeared. As his eyes
closed for the third time that minute, he attempted to keep them closed, a
shameful look on his face from the fact that he had just climaxed from the view
of his mother fucking his sworn enemy. Bellatrix laughed hysterically at the
shame, shock and anger on her nephew’s face.
Utterly exhausted, he carried them over to the bed,
stumbling wildly as he walked, not having the strength to fire even a
half-hearted sneer at Draco. The boy in question had a look of terror on his
face as he felt the muscles on his neck slowly becoming sore…for the next few
hours, he would be forced to maintain this position, while being unable to
blink during the entire ordeal. Harry slumped down, dislodging his length from
within her womb, the sudden absence allowing a creamy mixture of their fluids
to secrete from her slit, leaving a slight streak on his body as she shifted. She
twitched, the crawling flood of sperm leaving an uncomfortable sensation. Not a
second later, she sighed out in pleasure as Bella moved towards her, eyes
affixed predatorily on Narcy’s pussy. Using the flat of her tongue, she licked
along her slit, more obsessed with taking in Harry’s seed than providing her
slave with pleasure. Lips pursed over Narcy’s inner lips, she sucked and tugged
on the soft folds of skin, draining every last drop out of her sister. As she
made to swallow, the look of dejection in Narcissa’s eyes swayed her. Her
sister, after all, had been the one to milk such a glorious amount from their
Master. With a huff, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Narcy’s, opening her
lips to share the bounty. Narcy responded eagerly, but passionately, reacting
to the act of selflessness with grace, taking a small portion from her sister,
and then kissing her lips as Bella swallowed the remains.
Laying his head on the pillow, Harry looked on in
bemusement at their actions. The unspoken emotions that now manifested
themselves were a world apart from the beauty he had seen earlier, but were no
less powerful in their imagery. He looked over to Bellatrix, pulling her into
his arms, where she nestled into his side for comfort, slight envy playing
about her face due to the depth of his recent experience with Narcissa.
A smile crossed his face as he caressed her cheek, kissing
her lips as he whispered “Beautiful.”
Her content smile was enough answer for him as he slipped
into a deep sleep, cradled in the arms of his lovers.
Rest was necessary, for Wormtail's torture would be so
creative and lengthy that it would severely tax his magic and energy. The
rat-like man had violated the trust of his parents, condemning them to death
and him to a decade of mistreatment. While he had taken his revenge on the
Dursleys and Snape, Wormtail had yet to be punished. Loyalty was a native
aspect of Demons...their firm allegiance to their Lord meant that a violation
of trust was treated as blasphemy, a sin to be punished so harshly that it
dissuaded further disloyalty by force. Such treason would be repaid
harshly…very harshly.
********************** *************************** ********************** *************
It was close to eight that the lovers were wrested from
their sleep, the peace and tranquility suddenly interrupted by a desperate
knock on the door.
Eyelids snapped open simultaneously, baring three pairs of
eyes with such vivid color that it distracted from the malice resting in them.
And it gleamed, the malice, fury burning deep in the depths of their eyes, a
tunnel-vision seeming to overtake the three.
"Wormtail," hissed Harry, unconsciously slipping
into the guttural tones of Parseltongue. As the two buxom beauties draped
across him blinked, he was gone, causing them to squeak as their bodies shifted
in a way that entirely belied the vicious expression on their faces. As they
had been lying on him, for the most part, his sudden disappearance had caused
their limbs to suddenly rest on nothingness, making them flop onto the bed in a
rather graceless manner.
With a hiss of air, Harry reappeared, fully clothed,
emotion far from evident in his eyes. In a tone more clipped than businesslike,
he said "Dress yourselves. Such filth shall not gaze upon the beauty of my
Mates."
Twin blushes crossed the faces of the sisters, although
they were instantly discarded as they followed orders without a question.
Within a few seconds, the waving of wands had ceased, revealing Bellatrix and
Narcissa clad in simple robes, exposing almost nothing.
The knocking had become desperate now, the handle of the
door twisting as the person on the other side attempted to enter.
Striding to the door, Harry flung it open, wand in hand,
pointed threateningly towards the one on the other side.
Disappointment registered on his face for a split second,
immediately replaced by a grin that was at once happy and suggestive.
The intruder was definitely not Wormtail, going by the
curves that were more than evident despite the slightly baggy robes. The figure
was decidedly feminine...a vision of perfection of the female form. Somewhere
in the back of his mind, Harry mused upon the fact that the past day had been
rather full of such visions of perfection.
A shy smile, accompanied by the blush gracing her cheeks
at his suggestive grin, was shown before the smiling lips jumped at him,
impacting softly against his own.
Lost in the kiss, the emotions almost overwhelming him in
their depth, he staggered back, gripping onto the form of the woman tightly.
Narcissa, bearing a confused look on her face due to the
angle from which she viewed the proceedings, suddenly smiled seeing her niece
kissing her Master with such passion. Thoughtfully, she closed the door before
a wandering Death Eater could relay what he had seen to the Dark Lord.
Impressive as her Master was, in mind, body and soul, the
Dark Lord had such a presence that it at once inspired fear and respect, and an
involuntary tendency to blurt out the truth. A round of Cruciatus was
far more bearable than painful death once one's blunders made themselves known.
Shamefully, she bowed her head, ashamed at the way she underestimated her Master.
Harry, though a boy, had an air around him that was almost
as intimidating as Voldemort's. While women flocked to him, infatuated by his
looks even when he made no attempt to use his Magical Charm, men felt the
reverse. The aura of sexuality that called to females served to intimidate men,
making them feel less manly, less capable, and less powerful than the example
of the male form before them. His utter perfection in looks caused them jealousy
and envy, hate and fear. If he attempted, like the Dark Lord, to make a
conscious effort to intimidate someone, this effect would ostensibly be far
more powerful. Bella had told her about how even Macnair, the violent,
bloodthirsty executioner, had quailed before him in impotence and fear. From
the single time Narcy had seen Macnair before she knew that he himself was an
intimidating man. Of course, it had not been at a party or some other social
function…she was loath to let someone so obviously part of the dregs of the
Wizarding World into the opulence that was Malfoy Mansion. An arbitrary visit
to the Ministry had allowed her to spy him across the hall, leaning dangerously
on the massive axe he carried around.
Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of such digressing
thoughts, turning to look upon what was happening. Bella had a slight smile on
her face, reposed on the couch nearby, looking at her Master. Nymphadora stood,
held in his arms firmly, looking at him with adoration and love. From the look
on her Master’s face, Narcy deduced that he certainly felt something very deep
for Nymphadora, as his knuckles were stroking her cheek with great tenderness,
the look on his face almost mirroring hers in intensity. Nymphadora’s hands
were gently gripping Harry’s face, cupping his cheeks as she leaned against his
chest, head leaned up to face him.
It was not her place to envy her niece…as she had read in
some book written by some squib, ‘Ours is not to question why, ours is to do or
die.’ Impressive words, but it was too bad that they had been wasted on
Muggles. Of course, she still felt slight jealousy…he looked at her VERY
affectionately, but it was not in the same way that he looked at Bella or
Nymphadora. Of course, when he had made love to her a few hours ago, the
experience had been so profound that it had nearly reduced her to tears. He had
been gentle, caring and loving with each thrust, never hurting her, never
speeding up simply to satisfy himself. A slight smile crossed her face as she
vowed to never envy another one of the members of her Master’s harem…it was
neither her prerogative, nor her duty.
Harry was saying something, cradling Nymphadora in his
arms. “Your acting skills certainly have improved, Tonks, you were rather
convincing a few hours ago.”
It all became clear for Bellatrix in an instant. She had
been the target all along…Tonks, her niece, had been Harry’s inroad to
Voldemort. She had provided him, not three days ago, with the location of where
Harry lived in the summers. It became obvious…his lack of surprise when being
awoken, the little charade they had played at the table earlier in the day…it
had all been a carefully thought out plan to achieve one objective: Bella
herself. A slight smile crossed her face as she realized what troubles her
Master had gone through to acquire his Alpha. It was comforting…and something
of a turn on. The revel would be an opportune time to ‘thank’ her Master for
his efforts.
Tonks blushed, scowling playfully as she smacked him on
the chest, murmuring “Whatever, Master.”
Bella was perplexed…why did she call him Master? Was she
not the first to be marked? Perhaps he had marked her as one of his mates while
she had been visiting Narcissa. However, Harry seemed as surprised as Bella.
“Tonks?” he enquired, pulling back to look in her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
She looked down demurely, stiffening a bit. Affection
shone in his eyes, and he leaned her face up towards his, looking in her eyes
again. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, “you know I love you…you don’t
need to be mated to me. You know I cannot have a second Alpha…I refuse to have
you as anything but the highest tier of my mates, but you know that Bella will
always have that position.”
Explaining his transformation to her had been a trying
time in their relationship. To accept that another woman would take precedence
in the life of your man…it was no easy thing. Yet, she had proven her loyalty
and love for him, all in exchange for his oath that he would not abandon her,
of course. Nymphadora Tonks was a Slytherin, through and through, despite being
a Ravenclaw…Andromeda Black, though she spurned her heritage, was loath to
teach her only child differently. She had accepted, though, the fact that she
was not entirely fit to be his Alpha. It required a…darkness that she did not
possess in the manner that her Aunt possessed it.
She shook in his arms, letting out a tear as she hugged
him tightly. “Why?” she begged, desperation in her eyes, “You know that I love
you, why won’t you make me yours? Please,” she whimpered.
Sadness shone in his eyes as he stroked her hair,
entwining his fingers through the short pink hair on Tonks’ head. He gently
burrowed her further into his embrace, almost entirely enveloping her in his
arms. After embracing her for a few minutes, he led her over to the couch,
sitting next to Bella and drawing Tonks into his lap. Bella made to get up, but
Harry motioned for her to stay, which she complied with reluctantly.
He gently kissed Tonks’ cheek, his lips drifting against
her skin so lightly that despite the tears, she moaned. The tears eventually
died away, but the glimmer of sadness still stole the light from her eyes.
Bella, looking at the two of them, felt heartbroken…not out of jealousy, but
out of sympathy. Even as she took action on her feelings, she vowed to herself
that such irritating displays of emotions would be seen nowhere outside the
bedroom. Enough was enough, she thought with distaste…she was Bellatrix Black,
Slytherin and insane. Not some Hufflepuff, something that would be proved
tonight at the revel.
Leaning in, she cupped Tonks’ cheek in her hand, gently
stroking it. Tonks turned vulnerable eyes towards her, eyes that curiously
showed no hate or jealousy.
Bella, never losing contact with Tonks’ cheek, turned to
Harry, softly clasping his hand in her free one. “Master,” she whispered, “If
you were to mark her, and make it so that her rank is immediately after mine, I
would be glad to give a magical oath to never use my position against her.”
Harry’s head whipped towards her in a jerky movement,
disbelief in his eyes. Looking at her, he knew that she would not lie to him.
“Why, Bella?” he asked, honestly curious as to why a Slytherin like Bella would
give up power over one of his mates, thus practically making her an equal, all
on her own volition.
Head bowed, she murmured “You love her, Master. It is
obvious to me. Someday, maybe you will love me as well…but if you feel for her
so deeply, then it is only right of me to offer such an oath.”
Turning to Tonks, she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on
her lips, savoring the sweet taste of strawberry on the witch. “My Master loves
you, and I will do anything for him. Welcome, Nymphadora.”
Tonks let out a tear, embracing the older witch…who looked
only a year or two older than her, despite the decade and a half that truly
separated their ages. Drawing back, she pressed a kiss to Bella’s lips,
whispering “Thank you, Aunt.”
Harry pulled the two of them closer to him, nestling
Bella’s head under his chin. “Bellatrix,” he said emotionlessly, “need I remind
you of what we spoke about this afternoon?”
Bellatrix winced, fingers idly stroking his abdomen
through the robe. “I understand, Master…but this was different.”
He smirked, saying “Agreed. As much as I appreciate what
you have given Tonks, the point is that this is entirely against your
character. You don’t need to please me with every action that you take…there
will be others in the future to fulfill that purpose.”
This statement cleared things up for Bella quite well,
erasing hidden fears that she would, one day, be reduced to the level of a
servant. Seeing this relief, he laughed, saying “Don’t be stupid, Bellatrix. I
told you that I lusted for you, and things have not changed. While I do have
great love for Tonks, it is a love that started BEFORE my transformation…before
a large part of me changed. While I will always love her, I have changed, and
she knows and accepts this.”
Bellatrix nodded, a slight smirk on her face as she
slipped a hand into Tonks’ robe, fondling the flesh beneath it. “Master, I fear
I might have been a bit hasty…my niece, with her beauty, would have proved to
be rather dynamic in bed. Regardless, I shall take the oath.” Harry laughed,
seeing Tonks’ face flush red, her head thrown back slightly as she panted under
the effect of Bella’s stimulations.
He slid his own hand into her robes, clasping Bella’s in
it. Slowly, he slid their clasped hands up Tonks’ slender body, feeling each
contour on her abdomen, eventually cupping a breast. With his other hand, he
drew Tonks in for a kiss, easing her lips open gently. Pulling back even as he
massaged Tonks’ breast with the adjoined hands, he motioned for Bella to kiss
Tonks. The kiss between aunt and niece was erotic, slow and languorous as they
sucked on each other’s lips, nibbling, biting and tugging at each other even as
their tongues battled.
Harry blinked in confusion, wondering exactly how they
accomplished that…it seemed impossible to be able to touch tongues while biting
on someone’s lips. Discarding the thought, he cupped Tonks’ cheek as they drew
away from each other, heated expressions on their faces,
Tonks looked at him lovingly, cupping his cheeks.
“Harry…ever since you told me everything, I’ve wanted this. Please, Harry, make
me yours.”
He acquiesced, kissing her lips lightly. He gently leaned
her head to the side, exposing the slender neck, tinged red with the blush that
still existed from earlier. She slackened in his grip, turning full control
over to him. Nuzzling her neck with his nose, he pressed gentle kisses on her
skin before sinking his fangs into her neck. With a gentle push, the toxin
entered her bloodstream, seeping through the twists and turns of her body,
finding her heart, brain and sexual organs at the same time.
Unlike the others, she did not thrash in his arms, simply
grasping onto him tightly as a slow, sexy moan escaped her lips, the orgasm
phenomenal for her. Slumping against him, she waited for him to dislodge his
fangs, and then snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Master,” she whispered,
happiness resounding in her tone.
Leaning in, he kissed her lovingly, cupping her cheeks in
his palms as she reciprocated both gestures immediately. Drawing away, Harry
whispered “I love you.” Simple, and straightforward. She leaned in again,
pressing another kiss to his lips.
Moments later, she turned slightly nervous eyes towards
Bella, being mollified once the witch said “I, Bellatrix Black, do hereby swear
upon my magic to never use my position as Alpha of one Harry James Potter
against Nymphadora Tonks, unless my Master’s wellbeing is called into
question.”
The haze of magic swirled around them for a moment, and
dissolved into nothingness. Tonks cracked a smile, leaning over to kiss
Bellatrix’s lips tenderly. She was overwhelmed by the energetic response, her
moan sounding deep and throaty. When, at last, Bella withdrew, a slight smirk
graced her lips as she caressed Tonks’ cheek. “Let’s see just how good you are,
shall we?”
The expression of anticipation on her face made Narcissa
laugh, and she slipped onto the couch next to Bella with a predatory grin on
her face. “Agreed, niece, why don’t you t-”
She was interrupted by a harsh knock on the door, and the
sounds of a flurry of excitement from beyond it. Harry, who had been smiling,
was now the one smirking. He strode to the door, motioning for Narcissa to
prostrate herself in front of the door. She did so, understanding exactly what
he meant. Robe slightly opened in a teasing fashion, she kneeled demurely,
showing enough cleavage framed by her lush hair that Harry had to focus on the
moment to avoid taking her as she was.
He stood to the side, flicking his wand silently to open
the door. Wormtail stood framed in the doorway, his expression of shock turning
into one of glee. He walked in slowly, missing Harry entirely as he entered.
His expression only increased in gleefulness as he noticed Bella and Tonks on
the couch, hands entwined.
“Thank you, Master…I could have sworn he looked happy,
though…” he murmured.
The door slammed shut behind him ominously, making him
jump and whirl around. It was as if the apocalypse had taken place, by the fear
in his eyes. He fell to his knees, shuddering in terror at the sight that stood
before him.
A vortex of magic swirled dangerously, the green aura
tinged with the deepest of black. Amidst the flowing light show stood a man
clad in black, the stance powerful and unforgiving. Eyes black as the night
flashed in hate, the sliver of red flashing across them more than petrifying to
the cowering man. Huge, leathery wings were extended from the apparition’s back,
flaring out to enhance the posture of strength. Demonic teeth were extended in
a furious snarl, the pearly white teeth promising pain and suffering. Black
hair fluttered in the magical gust of wind, a halo of darkness and power
framing the being’s head majestically. A feeling of nervousness gave way to
ultimate terror as the crouched man soiled himself, whimpering in fear.
Words boomed from the being’s mouth, the noise resounding
in the room despite the fact that they were simply growled rather than shouted.
“You have been forsaken, Wormtail. Your life is forfeit
for your trespasses.”
Pettigrew shuddered, moaning “No! Please…please! Let me
go! I’ll do anything! Please!”
The laugh was cruel and bitter, the snarling lips exposing
sharper teeth than Wormtail was prepared to see. He promptly fainted in fear,
body shaking even in unconsciousness.
Narcissa shivered, damning herself for ever
underestimating her Master. The being that currently stood before the door was
loath to be named simply intimidating. Her Master, in all his glory, was
terrifying…a specter of Darkness so powerful and commanding that it made her
shake in fear. The aura dimmed in intensity, but did not entirely disappear. It
revealed Harry’s full features in his Demonic Form, the aura that he now
extended more intimidating than sexual.
Blinking, her eyes roved over his powerful form,
committing it to memory. She would paint this…image of magnificence, it was
only right of her to offer this simple homage to her Master. Bellatrix and
Tonks, sitting on the couch, gasped in surprise and awe. Though they had both
seen Harry’s Demonic form before, what stood before them now was nothing short
of a god. The pure magnificence of the image had all three women reeling in
awe, the image of this divine, yet damned entity burning itself into their
minds.
On the wall, Draco Malfoy was snapped to attention by the
roar of magic in the room. Rolling his eyes to the side to attempt a look at
the cause of the magic, he quailed in terror as he saw Harry’s form in all its
glory. Promptly, Draco Malfoy soiled himself in his fear.
Slashing his wand in a jerky movement that betrayed his
anger, he levitated Wormtail and smashed him into a wall. The force was
enormous, but safely short of the level that would crush Wormtail’s spine, and
thus end Harry’s revenge early. Wormtail began slipping down to the floor, but
he would have none of that. A flick of his wand caused Wormtail to halt, stuck
to the wall much like Malfoy was.
Harry approached in slow steps, his aura rolling about him
in waves. Quietly, almost so silently that the women did not hear, he said “I
looked for this charm for weeks, you know. I knew…someday, I would have
Pettigrew in my hands. And then, I would make him pay for what he did to me.”
A wave of his hand, his magic powered by his anger, caused
Wormtail’s eyes to open. He jerked about in fear, finally noticing that it was
Harry who had him plastered to the wall.
“Sweet boy…dear boy! Please! Don’t hurt me, Harry, James
wouldn’t-”
He was cut off by Harry, who smashed his fist into
Wormtail’s stomach, knocking the air out of him and snapping a rib. His voice
cruel and unforgiving, he chanted “Adligo Animans Stativum.”
Wormtail screeched in pain as his limbs went into rigor
mortis for a few seconds, the blood suddenly rushing through his body in
different directions and churning around as his magic resettled. Harry had just
bound his Animagus abilities once more, stopping him from transforming.
“You,” he hissed, face a mere inch away from Wormtail’s, “are
not fit to talk of those that you betrayed. You will die, traitor, and
by my hands.”
“No!” he protested, thrashing against the wall, “The
Master promised me a gift! You can’t do this to me! She is my gift!” he spat,
frantically motioning towards Narcissa with his head.
Harry laughed cruelly. “Narcy, come here.” She obeyed, a
smirk on her face. Sidling up to Harry, she wrapped an arm around his waist,
burying her head into the crook of his neck. He stroked her hair, his hand
trailing down the sleek, blonde hair down to her rear. Caressing her flesh
languidly, making an already irate Wormtail scream in anger, he laughed.
“Ladies,” he said, “you may start on Wormtail as I watch.
Make it interesting, will you? Do not kill him…that privilege is mine alone.”
The smirk on his face was positively cruel, matched equally by the three women,
who nodded their agreement. Bellatrix looked particularly dangerous, her eyes
glinting with unsuppressed insanity. Giving a quick wave to Narcissa, she
bounded over to Wormtail excitedly.
Harry sat back on the couch, but as Narcissa made to join
Bellatrix and Tonks, he held her back.
“You will never, ever, be put into such a position,
Narcy,” he said, caressing her cheek. She smiled slightly, nestling into his
embrace.
Kissing her lips, he withdrew, whispering “I would never
use you as a reward, Narcissa…those that ask for any of my mates will die at my
hand.” She nodded, having one of her fears lifted permanently. She did not know
how, but she simply knew that he was telling the truth.
Harry waved his wand, causing Draco to come hurtling
across the room and stick to the wall facing Wormtail’s torture. As Narcissa
approached the others, her rear swaying tantalizingly, he turned to Draco,
saying “Watch your future, Draco. This is what awaits you. As soon as Wormtail
dies, your blood will be the next to stain the walls of this room.”
Draco paled, his already pale skin taking on a nearly
transparent shade. Harry, noting the sudden paling, laughed.
“Perhaps we should start now?” At Draco’s emphatic
rejection, he snickered, and said “I will leave it to your mother to torture
you. I already repaid every single slight over the past five years a few hours
ago. Be good, Draco, and I won’t be forced to show you exactly how dynamic your
goddess of a mother is in bed.”
Draco shivered, trying once again to force his eyes shut
as blood sprayed on the wall across him. Unconcerned by the sudden eruption,
Bellatrix calmly uttered a healing charm, closing the artery on Wormtail’s arm
that had been spouting blood.
Harry reclined back on the couch, his eyes roving to and
fro as he examined his mates take care of Wormtail. Their creativity was far
from lacking, he noted, almost wincing as Bellatrix vanished the skin on
Wormtail’s legs, using the burning tip of her wand to directly scald the
muscles below.
The rat’s screams rang in the room, Harry’s laughter
joining in to create a cacophony of sounds. Narcissa, ever the practical one,
simple waved her wand, intoning “Crucio.” Grinning at the screams she
elicited, Tonks made a sharp jabbing motion with her wand, muttering “Explodra.”
There was a primal scream of pain as tears trickled down
Wormtail’s face, his features contorted into a grimace. Harry was
nonplussed…the curse should have caused him to explode in a veritable fountain
of blood, one that he would have disciplined Tonks for rather harshly. His eyes
widened as he saw the small river of blood trickle down Wormtail’s legs, and he
involuntarily winced, clutching at his manhood. Tonks had just castrated
Wormtail…rather explosively.
Bellatrix looked at Tonks with a raised eyebrow, muttering
“Impressive, niece.” A grin on her face accompanying the aroused glint in her
eyes, she slammed Tonks against the wall, crushing her lips against the younger
woman’s. Though she had given an oath, Bellatrix would hardly give up an
opportunity to dominate her niece, be it physically or otherwise. Their moans,
though sexy, couldn’t arouse Harry…not after witnessing a fellow man lose his
manhood. Draco, despite being a little bastard, winced as well.
Narcissa just shook her head at her sister, muttering
“Impulsive as always. Horny, too.” Turning back to Wormtail, she said “Now,
where were we? Ah… yes. Adflicatio Ascerbus.”
Wormtail let out a yowl of pain as the curse struck his
eyes, the watery orbs seeming to ignite in pain. The curse itself wasn’t as bad
as the Cruciatus, but when inflicted on a specific, small area, it was even
worse. True to form, it worked, causing him to jerk around helplessly, screaming
in pain.
Draco, suspended on the wall, paled horrifically. His
mother, the one who would torture him, apparently had an arsenal of spells that
she could use to that purpose, and was more than accomplished in using them.
A grin on her face, Narcissa wielded her wand like an
artist would a brush. In smooth, flawless movements, she cast spells on
Wormtail, eliciting horrific screams. “Ignis!” she muttered, setting his
shoes on fire while he still wore them. Harry’s chuckle was drowned out by the
noise of Wormtail’s shouts, his eyes leaking tears as he clamored for help.
Finally, Harry stood, rather satisfied with how Narcissa
had performed. Almost fifteen minutes had passed, and Wormtail had taken
nothing but the merest seconds to gulp in air between hoarse screams. Wrapping
an arm around Narcissa’s waist, he murmured “Play time is over. It’s time for
some blood.”
Feeling rather proud of her exhibition, Narcissa went as
far as to raise an eyebrow before catching herself and nodding. Moving towards
her sister and niece, who had moved their copulation to the large bed, she
found herself restrained by Harry’s hand grasping her own.
“Where are you going?” he asked. “I was under the
impression that you were going to help me…”
A grin crossed her face as she nodded again, murmuring “Of
course. What do you want me to do, Master?”
“Anything you want, Narcy,” he whispered, pulling her
tightly against him, pressing her rear against his front. She shivered, but
raised her wand nonetheless.
Ignoring Wormtail’s whimpers and screams, he nuzzled her
neck with his nose, trailing his lips against her skin. “On three,” he
whispered, his hand squeezing her waist, “cast the Cruciatus. Hit his right
hand, sweetheart.”
Narcissa leaned into him, whispering her assent. He counted,
whispering “One…two…three!”
As she muttered “Crucio!” he added his own curse,
stabbing his wand forwards viciously. Wormtail screamed hoarsely as the two
curses struck his arm, the skin and flesh beginning to tear away from his body.
Even as he screamed, blood gushed in all directions, the stump of his hand
waving about fitfully as his pain managed to release it from the curse that
stuck it to the wall. Within minutes, the only remnant of his right arm was a
heavily charred set of bones, barely holding together with coarse strings of
flesh as they protruded from the raw, bleeding stump that was his upper arm.
Grinning, Harry pulled Narcissa tighter against him. “Well
done, Narcy…that worked brilliantly.” She blushed at the praise, but the
scholarly part of her mind reflected on the interesting thing she had just
seen. The flesh-stripping curse, when combined with the Cruciatus, seemed to
create a horrifically painful result, leaving charred bones and not even the
barest shred of flesh on said bones.
Interesting.
“P-P-Please…H-Harry!” cried Wormtail, tears rolling down
his face, “I…I’ll t-t-tell you all a-a-about the D-D-Dark L-Lord! A-Anything!”
Transforming, Harry raised his clawed hands as he laughed.
“You have nothing to offer that I don’t already know. Goodbye,
traitor,” he snarled, pearly white fangs glinting.
Moving past Narcissa, he leapt at Wormtail, slashing to
and fro with his claws.
The screams rang in the room for another twenty minutes,
blood coating the grimy walls liberally as it sprayed from Wormtail’s tortured
body.
(scene break)
A freshly cleaned Harry Potter stood near Lord Voldemort,
the dim light of the main chamber enhancing the sadistic looks on the faces of
the Dark Lord, his Death Eaters, and Harry. Behind him stood Bellatrix, still
somewhat shaken from Harry’s exhibition of cruelty.
The blood…she loved every second of it, but it had
shattered the last few ideas that she had harbored, her opinion that Harry
still carried some degree of innocence. Seeing him indulge in the perverse
torture with the same, if not greater, degree of excitement that she had…well,
it was rather startling. Then, he had surprised her yet again, taking to his
dinner with an unblemished appetite, eating while still stained in the blood of
the traitor. As irritating as it was to admit her age, he was rather like she
had been in her younger days. Narcissa
had retired to Malfoy Manor with Tonks, as they had decided to enjoy…disciplining
Draco in his own bedroom. Tonks would not join the revel, as she had made
excuses to Voldemort stating that the Order would require her presence that
night for guard duty at their meeting place.
The revel was set to begin in a few minutes. A lighting
fast attack would precede the evening’s activities, the town of Nottingham
unknowingly, yet rather generously providing the source of the night’s
excitement. Muggles of all ages would be captured from their homes and brought
to the castle to suffer at the hands of the Death Eaters.
“Macnair,” called Voldemort, his voice seeming to take on
a hissing lilt as he drank in the atmosphere of excited anticipation. The Death
Eater in question presented himself promptly, bowing low and kissing the hem of
his Master’s robes. “You will take the first group to the south end of Nottingham.
Do care to select a variety of Muggles…seeing the same thing over and over
again is rather irritating.”
He bowed dutifully, lowering his posture even further as
he whispered his compliance. The Death Eaters knew not to speak to Lord
Voldemort loudly.
A minute later, Macnair had assembled his group, only
choosing people standing a respectable distance away from Harry. The young
Demon grinned sadistically, watching Macnair fluster as he spotted the grinning
sadist. Intimidation was such a useful tool.
Voldemort stood, his robes sweeping elegantly forward as
he moved to the center of the room. “Very well, let us depart.” With a hiss of
air, he was gone, the Death Eaters scrambling to follow him.
Harry turned to Bellatrix, pulling her into his arms. Grinning
over her shoulder at Snape’s body, which was suspended in the air in the middle
of the chamber, he let Bella apparate him away. It was a skill he needed to
learn…it could only be helpful. A second later, they reappeared towards the
rear of the assembled group of Death Eaters in the Northern half of the town.
“Spread out,” commanded the Dark Lord, “and reconvene at
the Castle in ten minutes. Stragglers will be punished.” The Death Eaters
grinned, leaving in small groups to hunt their prey.
“Well, milady, shall we?” Harry questioned. Bellatrix
grinned, taking his arm as they began walking down one of the streets unused by
the rest of the Death Eaters.
A pair of red eyes followed them, staring emotionlessly as
they examined the pair.
The first house they entered was empty, much to their
irritation. Irritably, Harry flung out his wand as they left, releasing an
explosion curse that not only blasted the door away, but crumbled a quarter of
the house away.
Bellatrix looked at him. “That wasn’t smart, Master. The
Muggles will flee, and we will return empty-handed.”
Harry laughed, saying “Hardly. On the contrary, my dear,
they will flock closer to see what the commotion was about. Wait and watch.”
Waving his wand, Harry disillusioned them, stepping into the shade of a tree to
make their fluid-looking forms even less visible under the street lights.
The sound caused the lights to flicker on in the next few
houses, people storming out and running across the street. Within a few
minutes, a group of about twenty people had assembled, gesticulating wildly as
they muttered to each other.
Harry grimaced…these people were identical to the bastards
living on Privet Drive. Their mutterings were gossipy; they were inferring that
the people living there had been stupid enough to cause a gas explosion in
their absence. He made a mental note to return to Privet Drive sometime. He
would raze the place to the fucking ground. There were things to do…exhibiting
exactly how Incurably Criminal he was, and disciplining that bitch who
lived down the street. Gorgeous as she was, she had dared to insult him
repeatedly in the earlier part of the summer. Of course, he had, after securing
control over his charm a few weeks ago, fucked her repeatedly, but she had yet
to be disciplined. Tonks had helped in that…it was something of a surprise to
him that she could be that dirty; a nice surprise. Then, a few days later, she
had approached Voldemort on his orders.
Waving his wand, he cast a silencing charm around the
group of people to prepare for what would come. Leaning over to Bellatrix,
Harry whispered “Sneak up behind them and stun them. Make contact between your
wand and their bodies before you curse, then no-one will be able to see the
light. They will panic, but quite typically, they won’t run. Dispose of whoever
you don’t want.”
She grinned, whispered her assent, and circled to the left
as he proceeded towards the right. Creeping up behind a corpulent man
reminiscent of Vernon with his jowly face, he dug the wand into the rolls of
flesh, silently casting the curse. The man slumped to the ground, somehow
unnoticed by the others despite the noise he made when falling. Quickly, he
made his way through the small gathering, knocking people out and disposing of
the ones he didn’t need by casting quick curses to stop their hearts. As people
dropped, the panic rose as the wiser Muggles started screaming and trying to
escape. With summoning spells for those that made it far enough, and stunners
for the rest, Harry and Bellatrix quickly subdued them, releasing the
Disillusionment charms on themselves in the process.
Waving his wand, Harry caused the bodies to assemble close
together. Looking them over, he noticed that only one of the women was
attractive. It wasn’t too bad…the Death Eaters, generally, weren’t too
particular about who they fucked. And there were seven other women present
within an acceptable age group…even a Death Eater wouldn’t rape an old woman,
though it was a choice made solely on aesthetic terms. Ruthlessly, he waved his
wand repeatedly, terminating the lives of the old men and women. It might be
brutal, but it would save them from endless torture. As for the rest…tough
shit.
Turning to Bella, he muttered “You’ll have to enlarge the
portkey…the Muggles won’t fit on such a tiny one. We-” He was cut off by a
scream from a nearby house. The porch lights had flickered on, and a young
woman was framed in the doorway, screaming bloody murder as she stared at the
pile of bodies across the road.
“I’m calling the Police!” she screamed, turning to run
inside.
Harry ignored Bella’s muttered “What’s a Police?” and
sprinted across the street, jerking his wand as he bellowed “Accio Girl!”
The sound of a crash was heard, and a second later, the
window of the house exploded outwards in a massive spray of glass, coating the
sidewalk liberally in sharp crystals. The girl flew out of the window,
screaming in pain, as her back had smashed straight through the glass. She flew
backwards across the road, straight at Harry, who dropped his wand and braced
himself. A second later, she collided with him heavily, sending the two of them
to the ground in a pile.
His head hit the ground, not hard enough to cut, but hard
enough to daze him for a few seconds. In those precious seconds, she kept
screaming, fighting her way out of his grip, and attempting to run again.
She took no more than eight steps before stopping still.
Skidding to a halt, she stood, dazed, staring straight ahead. Then, abruptly,
she turned, lust burning in her eyes, and slowly stalked towards Harry. Bending
down, she helped him to his feet, staring love struck into his eyes. His charm
was an absolute gift…
Roughly, he pulled her to him, crushing her body against
his. His palms found the curve of her buttocks, grasping them tightly as he
drove her crotch against his. She was attractive, to say the least, with a
shapely body, slightly curled, long hair, and a pretty face. His hands
continued to molest her, clutching at her body as she moaned in his grip, the
cotton nightgown doing nothing to veil her body.
Chuckling, he grabbed her breast in his hand, squeezing on
the small lump of flesh as he whispered “You weren’t really going to
call the Police, were you?”
Dazed, she rutted against his body wildly like a bitch in
heat, moaning “Oh god…no! No!”
“Good girl. You want me to be happy, don’t you, pet?” he
whispered, now fingering her moist folds through the cotton panty she wore.
With her nightgown hiked up to her hips from the front, her body plastered
against his, she looked amusing to Bellatrix, who grinned and proceeded to
enlarge the portkey.
“YES! Yes…” she whimpered, wrapping her arms around his
neck and pressing her face against him to stifle her moans. His hands slid over
her body, touching her in places that no man had ever touched before.
He cupped her ass roughly, squeezing hard enough to elicit
a squeal, and snarled “Then why did you crash into me!?”
Piteously, she whimpered, holding onto his biceps as she
sobbed her apologies. He grabbed her hair in a fist, jerking her head back
hard, and spat “Silence! You will be punished. Pet…you don’t want me to stay
angry, do you?” He ended on a coaxing note, nibbling on her neck between words.
Her reply was a throaty groan of “Oh, gods, no! No anger!”
as she began kissing his neck, attempting to pull his robe off where he stood
with one hand, the other fondling his crotch from the outside of his pants.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off again, for
the second time that night. After being bowled over by a hundred pounds of attractive
Muggle girl, as pleasurable as it turned out to be, he was short on temper.
“Becka…are you-WHAT THE FUCK?” The voice was irritating
and loud, two things that just blew Harry’s fuse.
He snapped his head towards the source of the words, only
to be met with a fist to the face. Stumbling back, he released ‘Becka’, his
fingers rising to his nose.
Blood. BLOOD!
Eyes flashing, he wiped the blood off on his robe and
looked up. A young man was holding ‘Becka’, stopping her from running towards
him. The expression of desperation on her face was enticing, but it would wait.
The guy holding her wasn’t particularly well built, but as was common with most
men, a punch to the face would most likely knock even a bigger man down.
“Who the fuck are you? Becka! Stop-what…what are you
trying to do? I-what?”
His garbled words, trying to ascertain exactly what the
hell was going on, were halted by a murmured word from Harry.
“Blood,” he repeated, holding up two fingers stained red
with blood. Turning to Bellatrix, he shook his head, signaling for her to stay
still.
“What the fuck? Yeah, its blood, you asshole! Touch my
girlfriend again, and I’ll make sure there’s more of it!” he snarled, not
looking particularly threatening, what with the girl in his arms straining
against his grip.
Harry laughed. “Becka,” he said, the word dripping
with…sex, if it were possible, “stay still.” The girl obeyed, although the
desperation never left her features.
Turning to the Muggle, he asked “What’s your name? I want
to know exactly who I’m about to murder.”
Paling slightly, the boy shook his head for a second,
before summoning up the courage to snarl “Thomas Lawton, dickhead…what’s yours?
Let me guess…its Jane. You talk big for a guy wearing a dress.”
A few months ago, regardless of the fact that Harry Potter
would never be seen in such a situation, he would have blushed at being called
a cross-dresser.
“My robe, Muggle, is not something you should be concerned
about. My name is Harry James Potter, Lawton. Now hurry up, I only have two
minutes to deal with you.”
Laughing at Harry’s audacity, Lawton moved forward,
cracking his knuckles. He paled a bit as Harry shrugged his robe off and rolled
up his sleeves, exposing powerful muscles on his forearms.
Circling about, Lawton raised his fists, bobbing them
around in the air as he sneered “I box at Smeltings, Potter, you don’ have a
chance, big as you are. Harry Potter, the missing kid who was on the news?
You’re him? Bullshit…you look nothing like the-urk!”
A gout of blood sprayed form his mouth as Harry struck,
impatient with the traditional trash-talking. His fist darted out, smashing
into the boy’s mouth, splitting his lip. The blow struck at an angle, causing
the emitted blood to spray sideways, slightly coating the Muggle’s cheek.
Gasping, the Muggle evaded the next swing, attempting to
lash out with his right. Harry ducked sideways, flinging his hands out to grab
the other boy’s extended arm. He twisted his body slightly, ignoring the
Muggle’s panic as he futilely used his left hand to rain punches on Harry’s
back.
Then, in a split second, blood poured all over the floor.
Harry had grabbed hold of the boy’s arm. The Muggle opened
his fist, but made no difference. His palm faced upwards, the entire arm
extended such that his elbow rested on Harry’s shoulder. In one smooth
movement, Harry rose upwards slightly, viciously pulling down on the Muggle’s
arm, snapping his elbow upon his shoulder.
Blood flew as the boy’s bone exploded out of his skin, the
scream loud enough to cause his besotted girlfriend to blink while staring at
Harry. Harry released the hand, allowing the boy to flop to the ground,
screaming and crying as he cradled his broken arm.
Moving close, under the light of the street lamps, Harry
crouched. “Nicely done, Lawton…good effort. Now, before I go through with my
promise of murdering you, take a look at exactly what you pissed off.”
Standing, he transformed, the Demonic look making itself
known immediately. His wings flared out regally, his dark aura blooming into
view.
Lawton’s scream of terror, making him temporarily forget
his pain, was cut short as Harry’s boot-clad foot descended on his head. With
the Demonic strength adding to the impact, it was messy. The boot landed right
upon his open jaw, not only snapping his jaw off, but also destroying his
teeth, crushing his upper mandible, and ultimately coursing down through the
disconnected flesh to crush the back of his throat, and reduce the upper-most
vertebrae to crumbs.
Lawton’s body trembled as his synapses ran crazy for a
moment, and then all settled back to peace.
He transformed back to his human form, smiling without any
humor in his expression as he pushed the hair out of his eyes. Taking a few
steps, he lifted his wand from where it had fallen on the road, and waved it over
himself, simultaneously casting a healing charm on his lip, and a cleaning
charm on his body, shoes and clothes. The blood evaporated and the cut on his
lip rejoined seamlessly.
Spitting out some blood onto the road, he beckoned at
Becka, who, in her sexually-driven daze, had not noticed the fight at all. The
girl, overjoyed, snapped to her feet and ran towards Harry, nearly slipping on
the blood that had spread from her boyfriend’s neck.
Grabbing her arm roughly, Harry marched them over to
Bellatrix, who stood there, interestedly examining his handiwork. “It looks as
if you entirely crushed his upper spine. Hmm...” she trailed off.
“Let’s go,” he said, kissing her cheek, and retracting his
aura. Becka stumbled, her mental facilities returning to her.
She grinned, and flicked her wand, activating the portkey.
The Muggles winked out of sight in a swirl of blue light. Taking his hand, and
grabbing the girl’s in her other hand, she apparated them away.
They returned to the Castle a few minutes after the others
did, causing Voldemort to glare at Harry.
He shrugged, motioning to the pile of bodies that had
appeared, and said “Enjoy.” Striding over to the stunned Muggles with Becka in
tow, he asked “Which ones are your parents?”
The girl, now free to think for herself struggled and
screamed. Irritably, he grabbed her by the throat, pulling her close to his
face. “Which ones,” he hissed, “Are your parents?”
She continued to struggle, and irritably, he slapped her
across the face. Yelping in pain, tears leaked out of her eyes as she quietly
indicated towards two of the Muggles, cowering away from him.
Looking at the ones she pointed out, he grinned. The
father was about forty years old and graying, though he showed signs of being
an attractive man in his time. The mother, on the other hand, looked to be no
older than thirty, perhaps thirty two, and was very attractive, bearing some
similarity to the girl’s own beauty.
“Is she your step-mother?” he asked, forcing her to look
at him. Trembling, she shook her head. He looked at her in astonishment, and
asked “How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” she mumbled, wincing at the tightness of his
grip.
“How old is your mother, then? She looks no older than
thirty…”
She blushed, looking away. Looking at her, he laughed
hysterically. “Your dad’s a cradle robber? How old is she, girl?”
Still blushing, she mumbled “Thirty three…”
He grinned, turning to Bellatrix. “Bring the good-looking
woman and the graying one there, and anyone else that you want to have fun
with. Come to the room, eh?”
Bellatrix grinned, the insane glint in her eyes flashing
as she mentally chose which ones to take with her.
Dragging the fighting girl along, Harry pulled Becka out
of the main chamber, nodding to Voldemort, who was grinning at the girl’s
struggles.
“You and I, sweetheart, are going to have a lot of fun. I
might even keep you, and perhaps your mother.”
She screamed, trying to fight him off. Once outside the
chamber, he slammed her up against the wall, and leaned in close, so that their
noses were brushing.
“Be good, Becka, and I might be kind enough to keep
your father as well.”
She struggled, but soon quieted, knowing that he wasn’t
bluffing. The look in his eyes was positively maniacal, convincing her that
this was no joke. Already, she had been unable to explain the odd things she
saw, like floating candles, and the frightening way that they had transported
her to this dank castle.
Grinning, he tore her nightgown away from her body,
whispering “Let’s see what I’ll be enjoying, shall we?”
Her screams rang in the hallways as he dragged her nubile
form away, groping at her body as she futilely tried to cover herself.
In the main chamber, watching his Death Eaters revel in
their insanity, Voldemort laughed.
******************************
**************************************
*************************************
Well…here it is. The update. A WHOPPER of a fucking
update…13,500 words. The one you’ve all been looking forward to. You like?
Except Chelse…who is full of moralistic garbage. Whatever.
Read and review…it is very encouraging to hear good
things, and constructive criticism is always appreciated. I have now decided to
make this a full-time effort, not just an ‘Oh, I’m bored. I know! I’ll write
some of Incubus!’ thing. I will try to update this and write this as much as
possible. What you have to understand is this:
I’m not, as shocked as you might be, an Incubus. Putting
myself into the mind frame of torture/rape is hard, and takes some time.
Putting myself into the mind frame for sex is not too hard at all. Been doing
that since I was twelve. It takes time to write the gory parts…the
Unforgivables are well and good, but it always comes down to “Crucio!”
*scream*. Not so descriptive at all.
<b><u>I’d like to thank CJ COLD…his help was
invaluable with this chapter. Great ideas, Chris, and thanks for all the help
with this and with Chimera. Let’s have a round of applause for CJ COLD…the
idea-tastic man.</b></u>
ALRIGHT! Let me know what you think, eh?
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