Title: Bloodlust
Author: eeyore9990
Characters: Bellatrix/Rabastan, Bellatrix/Rodolphus, Bellatrix/Frank, Alice
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Torture, Non-con
Themes/kinks chosen: symphorophilia: arousal by watching or causing destruction and/or death
Word Count: 1015
Summary: There was something so very powerful about holding another life in the palm of her hand, dangling it from the tip of her wand.
Author's notes: Not my usual fare, but it was a hell of a lot of fun to write this. :D Thanks to kathrynthegreat for looking this over and letting me know it didn't suck donkey balls. Heh.

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There was something so very powerful about holding another life in the palm of her hand, dangling it from the tip of her wand. Bellatrix watched fear fill the cow's eyes and when they were shining with it, she drew in a ragged breath.

It was starting.

The heat filled her belly and spilled out to the rest of her body. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tightened, and she could feel every particle of energy in the room. This was more than the pale sensation of lust.

She turned and looked toward her men, her lips parting and her eyelids growing heavy as dark pleasure coursed through her. Her cunt pulsed, her inner walls grasping at nothing when the Longbottom cow spit at her. Feisty. Breaking it would be simply orgasmic.

Sweat ran in a line down Bellatrix' spine as she raised her wand. The dark beauty of the curse called to her, whispered promises in her ear. It built and built until it overrode the desperate desire and pleasure, drowning them out until it became a white noise in her head.

"Crucio! " She hadn't meant to scream. She never meant to scream.

She stepped around the flailing cow, watching eagerly as spittle began to dot the full lips and weak chin. It took no concentration to keep this up. There was no drain on her magic.

She heard a moan, only to realise it was her own.

Hands on her. She turned her head. Rodolphus. There were times it was difficult to think. Difficult to remember. He so often faded into the recesses of her mind. But not know. She stared into his eyes while Longbottom, bound and forced to watch, screamed for mercy for his wife.

Mercy? Wasn't this mercy? Surely it was.

Lips against her neck. She pushed back against them until the sharp edges of teeth scraped her skin. Rabastan. Not her husband. Didn't matter. Neither of them were her Lord, but together they were... enough.

She laughed, pushing away.

The sad little cow lay on the floor, blood running freely from its mouth, tremors still wracking its body. The brown eyes stared at the ceiling, and in them Bellatrix saw perfection.

The blood shone, drawing her closer. She ran a finger through it, brought it to her mouth. So sweet. She traced her lips and turned to her men.

"Kiss me."

They fell on her, starved. Of course they were. She was a harsh mistress.

Lips.

Hands.

Teeth.

Tongue. She bit it and heard a scream, tasted the flow of his blood as it mingled with the cow's. For a moment, she felt a flicker of confusion. It should be different. Distinct.

But no, the cow was a pureblood, wasn't it? A traitor to the perfection that flowed through its veins.

Bellatrix hissed and turned.

"Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

Rabastan's laughter echoed inside her until she smiled and released it. She lay back and hands went up her skirt, pushing it to her waist. She allowed them to worship at her altar, their hands smoothing along her body, anointing their tongues with her secretions. She sighed, drinking them in as they drank her and turned her head to watch the light of sanity fade from the cow's eyes.

Free. She was setting it free.

The blood was so beautiful, laying atop the skin that spasmed under the force of Bellatrix' curse.

She sighed. It was done.

It was done.

She called the magic back as Rodolphus used the back of his hand to knock Rabastan aside. As one thrust in, the other landed on his back with a grunt. It could have been either. It could have been both.

"Ask him," she said, ignoring Rodolphus as he worked himself in her body, barely feeling him for the power that clawed at her skin, pushed against the backs of her eyes, whigned in her ears. The noise built again and she hissed, "Ask him!"

"Where is our Lord? What have you done with him?"

"I don't know! I don't know! Alice! Please, please. Please, Alice. Speak to me. Come back. Alice!"

The power pushed. Pulsed. Whispered again and again until the roar came through her, its conduit her mouth, her hand, her whole body.

"Crucio!"

He was a puppet, jerking against the string of power that ran from her wand to his body. His teeth sank through his lip, ripping the flesh. She screamed, convulsing with an orgasm that owed nothing to Rodolphus' awkward thrusts.

She brought her legs up, winding them around Rodolphus' waist and squeezing, squeezing. She rolled, forcing him to his back, then tossed her head and bared her teeth at him. "Worthless prick."

She looked over. The cow was coming back. The eyes showed the briefest flicker of light.

Her head turned to watch the Auror. His body flopped toward her and she smiled.

"Strip him."

Rabastan was no fool. His wand waved high; the clothes were gone. She ground against Rodolphus, disgusted when he stiffened, tainting her womb with his seed. She balled up her fist and smashed it to the side of his head, grunting with satisfaction when his eyes rolled back.

She crawled to the Auror.

The rhythm of his body as he danced to her tune excited her. "Engorgio!" She straddled him, sat, turned to stare into the cow's eyes as she rode the jerking, twisting body under her.

"So good," she crooned. "So good."

The light struggled.

She rode him harder, faster, squeezing her muscles around him and allowing the sounds that clawed at her throat to find their release. She screamed to the room, grabbed her breasts and tore at them as she came again.

Her second orgasm was not as overpowering as her first. It was less pleasing. She glared at him for cheating her of her pleasure and leaned down, grabbing him by the ears and slamming his head into the stone floor.

"Traitor."

She called the power back. Brought it home. Listened to its song.

The power filled her.

She stood and walked to the cow. Kicking out, she turned the head, looked into the eyes.

Nothing.

It was gone.

The noise whispered to her again...