wl_mods (wl_mods) wrote in wizard_love, @ 2010-02-15 01:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | *fic, 2010, bellatrix, tom |
Special delivery for wizard_love
Title: A Matter of Control
Author:
Recipient's LJ name: wizard_love
Pairing: Tom/Bellatrix
Rating: R
Summary: Tom Riddle had no use for witches, until one appeared before him that was unlike any he had known before. Her beauty and strength would help his cause if he could find a way to ensure her loyalty while discouraging others to lust after her and be distracted in battle.
Word Count: 5,400
Warnings/Content: Sexual content
Disclaimer:Not mine.
Author's notes: I have set the story well before the end of the first war, so Tom Riddle would not as of yet reached his snake like form. Hope you enjoy.
Tom Riddle stood by the window looking out at the expanse of lawn. He was unsure as to letting witches join the cause as fighters, but now that he had an appointment to meet with the Black woman, he knew he would have to reconsider his opinion. There was no reason he should not use them, as he knew several witches that were fierce duellers, but the idea of a witch in battle went against everything he wanted for his new order.
“She is here, my Lord,” his manservant bowed low, “shall I see her in?”
“Bradley,” Riddle called back the man. “Would you fight next to a witch?”
“Sir?”
“A witch? Would you duel beside a witch? Would you trust her with your life?”
“I would do what my Lord bids.”
“Get out and send in the Black cow,” Riddle sighed, knowing he would never get a truthful answer but only what the wizard thought he wanted to hear.
He had never needed, or wanted, a witch for more then the obvious release that he from time to time craved, and even then, he had felt disgusted with his actions once he was done with them. Now, to think of his troops with a witch in their midst brought unwanted ideas of what would happen, and how they could lose focus.
Whores, the lot of them were whores, he thought, as his mother had been. She had used potions to get what she wanted and then did not care enough to insure his care, choosing instead to deliver him with strangers. Strangers in the Muggle world that had tried to foist their religion down his throat. He thought it a fitting end that she had died carrying out her plan.
He could still remember the blows from Sister Agnes that had fallen on his shoulders when she caught him masturbating in the library. She had not known it was the beating that made his release all the sweeter until he had shoved his hand in his waistband and pumped to climax as her switch fell faster and faster. He unwilling to stop the sensations that took his breath away and her not understanding that she was not punishing him but rather giving him a reward.
“My Lord?” Bradley asked.
“What are you waiting for? Send her in!”
“Yes, Master.” Bradley bowed and stepped out of the room backwards.
Riddle stood with his back to the door until the rustle of fabric and the click of the hasp alerted him to the fact the she had entered. Taking a few moments to let her feel his presence, knowing how nervous she was, he smirked knowing the longer she waited the more apprehensive she would be. Finally, he slowly turned to look at her.
She had gone down on one knee, her head lowered, hiding her face in a riotous mass of black shiny curls that shielded her face like a curtain. Walking slowly around her, he admired her ivory shoulders, exposed by the low riding full bodice. He stepped behind her, and continued his perusal, seeing her small waist and tightly laced dress and wanting to reach out and stroke the small of her back.
“I prefer my witches to wear black.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“I see you know how to appear a … submissive witch. Are you?”
“My Lord?” she whispered in a voice that he found both strong and sultry.
“I asked you a question,” he asked, leaning close to her ear, his breath touching its outer shell.
“My Lord, I can be anything you want me to be.”
“Why?”
“My Lord?”
“Why? Why would you want to join my cause?”
She felt him stand, more then heard him, and fought to remain in her position. “I… I want to help. I want to rid this world of those that want to destroy it and fight for the purity of our blood.”
“You would die for me?”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said breathlessly. “Anything for you, my Lord.”
“Lift your head and look at me.”
She did so slowly. Shyly glancing up through her lashes, her mouth partly opened as she fought to keep her breath even.
“You are nervous to be in my presence?”
She nodded, dropping her head demurely.
“Stand.”
He watched as she did his bidding, then took her arm and led her to a straight- backed chair and gently lowered her into it.
“I am concerned about your insistence in fighting, Miss Black.” He walked to his desk and picked up a stack of letters. “Was it your idea to write these requests or were you told to do so? Remember, Miss Black, anything you say I can read in your mind, and any wrong information will be punished accordingly.”
“It was my idea, my Lord.”
“You do understand that a witch taking part in a duel can be … distracting.”
“Sir?” She lifted her head and looked directly at him.
He reached out and grabbed her face, pinching her cheeks together as he hissed, “You dare to act like a slut? Lower your eyes at once. I have not given you permission to look at me.”
“I am sorry, my Lord,” she said strongly, dropping her eyes.
“As I was saying,” he calmly sat behind his desk, “a witch is a distraction. Not only do some wizards harbour a protective nature toward them, thinking to protect them from harm, but find in them a sexual attraction not suitable for battle. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir. Perhaps, if I may as bold as to say, there are times a … “
“You may not. I have not given you permission to speak,” he said coldly.
“I have not decided yet what to do with you. You are an uncommonly attractive witch. Are you currently in a relationship that may interfere with your work or take your time away from our cause?”
“No, sir.”
“I find that hard to believe, Miss Black. Do not test my patience.”
“My parents want me to wed into the LeStrange family, to strengthen our ties,” she admitted. “However, I have no desire to do so.”
“It would be better if you did. It may stop some of what I fear will be a fight for your…attentions.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” she choked, feeling tears sting her eyes.
“If I demand it?”
“Then I will submit to him,” she said tearfully.
“You will follow my wishes with joy, Miss Black. If what I request is too much for you how will I trust you in battle?”
“You can trust me, you can. I have followed you from the beginning. I have read everything about you. You are the most powerful wizard I have ever heard of, or seen. Please, do not send me away. Please.”
Tom leaned back in his chair and studied her. She could be useful. She could make connections in places he had been unable to breech. However, he did not trust her any further then he trusted any other whore, and a whore with the last name of Black less then others.
He walked around to the front of his desk and sat on its edge facing her. Leaning forward he traced her jaw line with his thumb. He hardened as he thought what she would look like under the Cruciatus curse, submitting her will completely to his.
“I will test you. I will make you submit, in all ways. Do you understand?”
“Yes, oh yes. I want this. More than you can know,” she said breathlessly.
He sat up and pulled out his wand, tapping it into his palm he watched her eyes gravitate to the movement. “I want you to move to the floor. It may be more comfortable it you lay down while I do this.”
“Do what?” she whispered, blanching at the hard tone his voice had taken.
“Your first test, my dear.”
.
.
.
He watched as she walked down the pavement, supported by Bradley’s arm. He had been pleased, quite pleased at how long she had stayed under the Cruciatus curse before crying out, her cry ripping into his groin and speeding his own climax into his hand as he had watched her. It had been a long time since he had felt arousal, too long, he now thought as he watched the witch walk away.
He summoned his owl to send her a note, telling her to return in one week. He had never found this much pleasure in watching a witch before. However, to watch one this willing to submit to him was an experience he had never had before. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps he would need to find how far she could truly go.
.
.
.
Riddle sent Bradley to collect the Black witch the following week. Unable to forget the way she had withered on the floor, her body contorted and taunt as his curse had racked through her. He had found his mind returning again and again to the sight. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, remembering the curve or her throat, the tightening of sinew and muscle, and the arch of her back as she fought against the pain, and then giving into it completely.
When she entered the room, he waved Bradley away and set wards to the door, not wanting interruptions. He looked at her and saw her unsteady breathing, her flushed face, and knew that she was excited to be here as he had hoped.
“On your knees,” he ordered her and watched as she dropped at once.
“Nicely done, my dear.”
He walked back to the window and looked out again, thinking of this witch in battle. “You must understand that the problem is a simple one. If my wizards rush in to defend you, to shield you with a spell, and take their eye off the main target it could jeopardise the mission. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said with her eyes on the floor.
“I am not inclined to do this,” he said, turning back to look at her. “It would take your complete loyalty to me. You would have to surrender yourself to me fully and everyone you fight with would have to understand that you are mine first, knowing that you are as you say, willing to die for me. They would have to know you would also die for them in battle.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she breathed, ecstasy laced her words as she squirmed, hearing the total command in his voice.
“In all things,” he purred. “Are you willing to submit to me?”
“Oh, my Lord, please let me. Please.” She fisted her hands on the rug and vigorously nodded her head.
“They would have to understand that you are mine in all things. Do you understand what I am talking of, Miss Black?”
“I…I think so.”
“You are young and unattached. I would not allow that in battle. I would not allow a wizard to become…lustfully involved with you. I want you to accept your parent’s wishes and wed LeStrange. I want you to do so as soon as possible.”
“Yes, my Lord. I promise… I would never …”
“You are a witch. It would be a natural progression for you to seduce my troops, to undermine my authority. As a whore, I understand you will be following a predisposed inclination. However, if you do not …overcome your base instincts, and give them to only me, I will not accept you.”
He smiled and walked to her again, falling on his knees beside her, sliding his hand under her skirt and stroked her outer thighs. “Who have you been with? Who have you fucked? Is he one of my followers? I need to know where your loyalties lay.”
“No one, my Lord,” she said in a rush of breath.
“I will have to verify that, my little whore,” he whispered as his hand moved to the inside of her thighs. “I need you to tell me if anyone that touched this. If you want to be mine, I will allow no one to have your loyalty over mine. Even LeStrange. Tell him you will wed him, but not fuck him. Am I clear?”
“Just you,” she closed her eyes and pushed back against his hand.
“You are quite the whore for never having been fucked,” he laughed. “Do you play with yourself?”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said, her face going red.
“Good girl, never lie to me. You are being a very good whore.”
He grabbed her knickers and ripped them off, hearing her gasp and feeling her flinch. “Don’t ever pull away from me or I will have to punish you. I own everything of those that wear my mark. If you wear it, I will own this too.”
He slipped a finger into her, feeling her wetness and grinned. “Ah, so you are ready for me.”
“Yes,” she choked, embarrassed that she was allowing him to do what he did, and at the same time not wanting him to stop.
“I will let you feel good… this once.” His thumb drew lazy patterns on her clitoris as his finger sought her hymen. “So, little whore, I see we have a lot of work to do. Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she moaned. “Please, my Lord…you.”
He continued rubbing her clitoris as he leaned over to the ear. “You are not allowed to wear knickers anymore. You are not allowed to touch yourself unless I am with you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she cried, putting her face to the rug in embarrassment as he continued to arouse her.
“Are you ready for me?”
“Yes, my gods, yes!”
“You must never complain about what I do. Never put your will over mine.”
He chuckled and moved behind her, flipping her dress up over her arse and pushing her legs apart. He removed his hand only to reposition and shove two fingers into her, hearing her gasp. His left hand slapped her arse, leaving his handprint visible.
“Shhh, I warned you once to give into me completely, yet you pull away from my attentions. Now I have to finish your punishment. Remember, you forced me to do this. It was you that brought this on.”
He began spanking her with one hand, and his other now added three fingers in her channel, stroking her with his thumb. He felt her tighten, and heard her breath hitch as she neared climax. Waiting until he felt her body begin to stiffen, he quickly removed his hand and pulled her dress down.
“I will not allow that yet. You tried to control me, to make me give you a climax. That was a bad girl.”
“I … I didn’t…”
“Shut up, whore,” he leaned over her back and hissed in her ear. “You have not yet submitted your will to me.”
“Tell me how,” she sobbed. “I tried… I did.”
“If you have to try, you have not submitted.” He stood up and returned to sit behind his desk, leaving her on her knees. “You may leave.”
“Leave?” She rose to her feet unsteadily.
“I thought you could be the one,” he said, looking darkly at her. “But you are a child.”
“No, no I’m not. I can do this.”
“Go home, Miss Black. My loyal give me everything. Their bodies, their minds, their very souls. Think about if this is what you want. If it is, come back this evening. If not,” he said with a shrug. “There are many witches that will submit to my...desires, and in return gain power not imagined.”
“I want to. Since I saw you at the Malfoy Manor, I have wanted to come to you. I am of age now, I can do what I want, and I want to … to submit to you.”
“You are … young…” He smiled at her. “As I said, if you still want to join me, you will return this evening. I have much to teach you. In the meantime, you are not to touch yourself. Do you understand?”
He watched her leave and smirked. My gods she was a beauty. A beauty he could envision tied to his bed as she willingly submitted to his administrations. Perhaps, she was the one, he thought. Perhaps she would be able to fulfill his needs, as no other witch had ever been able to. He brought his fingers to his nose and smelled her.
He leaned back and swivelled his chair to the window, remembering the witches that had thrown themselves in front of him before. Each one wanting to capture the heart of the most powerful wizard in the world, and not one understanding that he needed to dominate every fibre of their being. This one felt different. This one, from the house of Black, was born to be his and his alone.
He sighed and thought again of her request to fight. He would break her. Break her then build her back up the way he needed her.
.
.
Bellatrix lay in the bathtub, wanting to slide her hand between her legs wanting to relieve the ache that had settled there since he had removed his hands. Gods, she thought, as she snatched her hands away, afraid that even here in her private bath he would see. She had never done anything like this before, never done more that a kiss and grope in the dark halls at Hogwarts. Now she could think of nothing else but having the Lord take her to his bed.
She hurried and dried her hair and dressed with care, remembering his instructions not to wear knickers she smirked and pulled off her bra as well. Putting her back to the mirror and twisting to look over her shoulder, she saw her red arse and felt aroused at the sight. My gods, she thought, anything he wants, anything at all.
Rushing down stairs, she ran to the gate to apparate to her Lord, her heart beating so loud she could hear it. She was immediately taken in to the study again and told the Lord would be with her soon. She waited nervously, pacing in front of the fireplace and jumping when the door opened.
“Miss Black.”
“My Lord,” she said, and again went down on one knee, lowering her head.
He pulled her up by the hair, and slapped her face. “When we are alone, you will call me Master. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Master,” she whimpered, tasting her own blood.
“Open your mouth,” Riddle pulled her head back by the hair as she did as he asked, feeling his mouth close over hers. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, ridding it of blood and groaning at the taste and sensation. “I will know all your tastes by the time we are done, and you mine.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Tonight you will prove your…loyalty to me. In doing so, know no other will touch you. You will be mine.”
“Master, yes, please.”
“I want you to go to the Hogs Head.”
“Master?”
“I want you to seduce a wizard, take him to the alley behind the bar and perform the Cruciatus. You are not to let him fuck you, or give him …satisfaction. Am I clear?”
“I will only curse him, Master.”
“I assumed you were a whore from the way you acted earlier and would want him to take you. Are you sure?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Come here, Bella. May I call you Bella?”
“Yes, Master,” she tried to choke back her tears of joy.
“What is wrong? Bella, you cry.”
“I only wanted you. I have only ever wanted you.”
“My dear,” he stood and walked to her as she approached him. “Have you done as I requested?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Turn around and lift your skirts, I need to see.”
Bella did so, turning red as she bared her arse in his office.
“Bella,” he whispered into her ear. “Lean over the desk and hold on to the sides.”
She did as he asked, surprised as he kicked her feet apart. She twisted to look over her shoulder and saw his scowl. “Bella, did I tell you to watch me?”
“No,” she bit her lip and turned her head back down to the desk.
“I had planned to do something else, but once again I am afraid I have to punish you.” He stepped away and opened his desk drawer. “You will learn to like this, my dear. However, at first it can be a little overwhelming.”
She felt the first blow of the flogger on her arse and fought the gasp of pain that filled her throat. The second blow was lower across the bum and the third fell across the clitoris and sent a shock wave through her body as she hissed in sudden pain.
“Oh, I am sorry,” he chuckled. “If you do not like it, you may leave.”
“No, “she said breathlessly. “No, please, it was my fault. You did what you must.”
“I will never mete out more punishment than you are ready for.” He stroked her reddening arse and frowned. “As a father spanks his young, I will spank you to insure you obey. However, you are not a child, therefore my spankings must be more …intimate.”
He stepped back and grinned, seeing her hands holding on to the edges of the desk so hard her knuckles were white and her arms trembled.
“Do you like this, my Bella? Do you like my attentions?”
“Master? I… I will submit for you.”
He angrily pulled her hair back by her hair. “You will submit to what I say. If you want to be mine you must come willingly, you must want it. I ask you again do you like my attentions?”
“Yes, Master, please beat me sir. Please… yes, I want it.”
“Stand up. Face me.” He stepped back and watched as she did his bidding.
He grabbed her chin and lifted her face, studying her and frowned. “I must have underestimated you, my dear. You will return here every day for a week. At the end of this week I will decide if you can be trusted in a duel.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said breathlessly, smiling at him widely.
“Lord? No, no, my Bella. I have told you when it is just the two of us; you are to call me Master. You have disobeyed me in this again.”
Bellatrix blanched, falling to her knees and kissing the hem of his robes. “I am sorry, Master.”
“I am afraid I will not be gentle this time,” he sighed heavily as he pulled his belt from the loops. “We will soon be in war my little whore. You must learn quickly to do as you are told.”
.
.
Later that night, Bellatrix sat in the bath pouring water over her back and dipping below the water when the pain became too bad. She heard her sister open the door of their shared accommodations, and spun around to hide the evidence of the lashing.
“Bella, my gods! What happened?” Narcissa grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her forward to look at her back. “He did this? Lord Voldemort?”
“Yes,” Bellatrix admitted, “don’t tell Daddy. He may not understand.”
“Oh, no…he would understand only too well.” Narcissa frowned and put her hands on her hips. “I hope you know what you are getting into.”
“Of course I do,” Bella spat. “The Dark Lord is making me his. His alone.”
“Has he tested you yet?”
“Yes, I had an assignment at the Hogs Head. It was an easy test, only a small curse.”
Narcissa stepped back from the tub and picked up a towel, which she held out to Bella. “Here, finish up and I will fix your hair. When do you see him again?”
“I am supposed to go back tomorrow and let him know I completed the test.”
“Did he tell you to heal yourself, or does he want the stripes to…”
“No, don’t heal me. If he wanted the marks gone he would have taken them off.”
“I guess,” Narcissa sighed. “If you want you can wear my black crepe. It won’t rub your skin as badly.”
Bella stood and stepped from the tub, rivulets of water streaming off her body. “Thanks Sis. Now come, help me decide what to wear tomorrow. I want to look … special.”.
.
Once again, Bella was on her knees as her Lord walked around her, and then stopping in front of her, he offered her his hand.
“Come, my little whore, you have done well,” he sniggered and led her to the sofa, sitting down and forcing her to her knees in front of him. “I should take more time with you. I should slowly bring you to your full potential but there is not time for that.”
He laid his finger on her forehead and entered her mind, seeing the wizard that had lain on the ground, twisting in agony at the curse Bella held on him. Lowering his hand and leaning back against the cushions, he studied her face.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, Master,” she reddened at the omission.
“Do you enjoy having power over wizards?”
“Yes, Master.”
He took her hand and pressed it to his trousers over his flaccid penis.
“Never think you have power over me. It is I that will control you.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, not knowing what to do as earlier he had seemed quite pleased in her.
Holding her hand on his groin with one hand, he felt her breast the other, smirking to realize she did not wear a bra.
“Disrobe,” he ordered her. “When you are done you may come to me.”
Hurriedly she undressed, turning red as he sat watching her. When she was naked, she stepped in front of him, watching as he undid his belt and freed himself. Lifting up his hips, he pulled his trousers down, his erection springing clear.
Bella felt suddenly nervous and peeked up at his face to see him watching her intently, only to turn away, waiting for his permission.
“I want you to kneel in the middle of the floor,” he said coldly as he picked up his wand. “You did not hold the curse long enough on your test subject. I will show you how it should be done.”
He pointed his wand at her, watching as her eyes grew large in anticipation and then calmly levelled the Cruciatus at her, his hand going to his member, a moan of ecstasy falling from his lips. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought, beautiful and submissive. He felt his breath quicken and his body stiffen in his body’s expectation of release. Yes, he hissed, yes, she is mine.
.
Every evening for the rest of the week he repeated his performance, his orgasms were becoming stronger and yet strangely less satisfying. He found himself thinking of her during the day, at times when he least expected. Each evening he held the curse longer, watching as she clamped her jaw shut and arched her back. She never complained, or seemed to resent the pain, only came back again and again looking for more.
“I am pleased with you, Bella,” he said honestly, as she tried to button her blouse after their last session. “No other witch has ever satisfied me the way you have.”
“Thank you, Master,” she said softly.
“You seem sad tonight,” he spoke softly and lifted her chin.
“I thought you wanted me,” she whispered.
“But I do, Bella,” he sighed, looking down her body. “I have never felt this way about a witch before. I have never wanted the same witch twice.”
“But…,” she stammered, “you have not taken me once.”
“Ah, Bella, the time will come,” he laughed. “You will come on Saturday next. You will receive your mark at that time and be introduced to the others.”
“Oh, my Lord!” She sunk to her knees and grabbed his hand, pressing it to her lips. “Thank you, my….”
His left hand grabbed her hair and yanked her to her feet as he struck her with his right. She fought to control her footing and not to stumble as he brought his hand back and struck her again.
“Whore!” he spat. “What are you to call me?”
“Master,” she whimpered. “Punish me, Master, punish me.”
He watched as her chest moved in rhythm to her quick breaths, and saw the pulse just under her skin of her neck. Reaching out he grabbed her around the throat and pulled her close, bringing down his mouth and crushing it to hers.
“Bitch,” he hissed shoving her way. “You are trying to control me.”
“No, Master,” she panted as she leaned back against the wall. “I need you to punish me. I need it.”
In two strides he was to her, a hand on each side of her head, and staring hard into her eyes he again lowered his head and captured her mouth, feeling her open instantly and welcome his tongue. One hand left the wall and found her breast. Twisting it harshly, he felt her hold her breath as the pain radiated through her.
“Do you like that?” he rasped.
“Yes, Master,” she said breathlessly.
He pulled his wand, divesting her of all clothing, and then took her hands and guided them to his belt, surprised when she at once began to unbuckle him with out his instruction. She undid his waistband and lowered his zipper. Pushing her hand into his pants, she grabbed his erection and began to stroke him.
“Let me do it for you this time,” she said hungrily. “Let me try to make it better for you.”
He pushed down his trousers and shorts, thrusting into her hand as she quickened her strokes. “You mean to control me?” he hissed in agony as he fought not to come in her hand.
“No, I only…”
He slapped her hand away and in one motion picked her up and slammed her back into the wall, shoving his knee between her legs to stop her from sliding to the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her head to his chest.
“Please, I wanted only to please you.”
Grabbing her legs and pulling them behind him, he then thrust up and into her, roughly breaking through her hymen, grunting in his efforts to slam into her as deep as he could. His head fell back as he felt his knees weaken and with a roar straightened up and into her again, his exertions pinning her to the wall and grinding the cold stones into her back.
He bit her shoulder, lapping at the wound and tasting the salty blood mixed with sweat as he pushed her again and again into the unyielding wall. Her legs tighten around him as she whimpered and clenched her internal walls, pulling him deeper. He felt a quickening that signalled his release, and for the first time in his life wanted to feel a witch climax, wet and warm, around him. He reached between then, seeking her clitoris, and after only two strokes, she was bucking against him, his name spilling from her lips, and her arms holding him as tightly as she could as he emptied into her with a roar.
He sagged to his knees, dragging Bella down the wall with him, refusing to pull out of her until he softened completely. He took a deep breath and pulled her away just far enough to look into her face.
“Bella,” he choked.
“Master?” She licked her lips and reached to push his hair from his face.
“You will fight for me. You will have power you have not imagined. I will never release you.”
“I am yours,” she laid her head on his chest, smiling widely. “I have always wanted to be yours.”