Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: sabethea
From: lilmisblack

Title: The other side
Characters/Pairings: Lucius/Regulus, Bellatrix
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Punishment, Dub/Non-con, humiliation
Other Warnings/Content: Voyeurism, caning, come play
Word Count: 1900
Summary/Description: I’ve been in the dungeons before, many times, but never like this. Never on this side of punishment.
Author's Notes: Merry Kinky Kristmas, hope you enjoy!!



I’ve been in the dungeons before, many times, but never like this. Never on this side of punishment. I’ve seen others strain against the bindings around their arms, I didn’t know how much it would hurt, how tight the rope would feel around my wrists, how it would push my shoulders back, making every muscle ache. I’ve seen others try to balance their weight after just a few minutes kneeling here, I had no idea how unforgiving the stone floor would be against my knees, how the pain would travel from the tip of my toes all the way to my spine every time I moved, I never thought staying still would be just as painful.

The air is cold without clothes on, and I can feel a breeze when the door opens, hear the faint sounds of the Christmas gathering still going on upstairs. The blindfold around my eyes seems to sharpen every other sense, making every sound so much louder, every scent so much stronger. Making the pain so much worse.

I’ve seen others tremble in fear before. I never thought I’d be in this position myself. I never thought it would be my own family putting me through this.

And again, it is my brother’s fault. How could it not be? It was he that started it all, he was the one that tarnished our name, he was the one that disregarded everything our family ever stood for. He was the one that broke our mother’s heart. It’s because of him that I’ve always had to strive so much harder to be everything that was expected of me. It’s because of him that my punishment has always been so much more severe. But this, this is too far. And it is all his fault. It was his stash, after all.

I hear steps now, faint at first, louder as they get near. The stairs creek under the weight. And every other step I hear a loud tap. And that’s enough to know who is coming. I try my best to suppress a whimper. I hear the rustle of robes as he comes closer, I can almost feel the heat coming off him, such a contrast with the chilling air. He walks around me, once and then again, without saying a word. The whistle-like sound of movement through the air is all the warning I get before the cane hits my back.

I fall forward, I can’t help it, and a muffled groan is the only sound I can manage. I have seen others in the same position. Now I understand their reaction better. The pain is searing, made all the worse by Lucius’ fingers pressing down on the welt. I do not whimper, and I do not cry. I am a Black, and I do not break so easily.

“You know why you are here,” he says, yanking me back by the hair until I am kneeling down once more. “Don’t you?” he adds after a moment, voice low, controlled. Dangerous.

“Yes.” I know better than to elaborate.

“Your actions tonight bring nothing but shame to your family. Such behaviour may have been allowed before, but not any more.” I feel him lean closer to me, feel his hair brush over my shoulder, feel his lips against my ear. “I am part of this family now. You will not bring shame to my name.”

He pushes me forward and I lose my balance. I can’t break the fall, not with my arms still tied behind my back. The rough stone scratches the side of my face, and as I slowly push myself back onto my knees I feel a small trickle of blood trail down my cheek, so warm against the chilling air.

“Your brother is a lost cause,” he says, “but there might be hope for you yet. Under the right…tutelage.”

I hear a muttered word, and a second later I find myself chained to the ceiling, my arms now tied over my head, my toes barely grazing the floor. The pain in my knees is somehow worse than before, and I feel my shoulders are about to pop from their sockets, but I bite my lip and somehow silence my cries.

He stands behind me, so close I can feel his robes brush against my skin, his breath against my neck.

“From this moment on, you will behave in a manner appropriate for someone of your station,” he says. “At least, in public.”

I feel him step back, feel the tip of his cane travel down my spine, and I shiver. Then he strikes, so hard, so fast. The only sound in my room is my own breathing, and the seconds tick by as I try to catch my breath, to steel myself against what I know is coming. I can feel him watching me, I know he is enjoying this. My eyes are brimming with tears I refuse to shed. Finally the cane trails down my back again, slowly, and then he strikes across my thighs, harder than before. This time I whimper, and as the next strike comes I arch my body, trying to get away from him. But we both know I can’t. He strikes again. Across my back, and across my thighs, and across my arse, the welts crisscrossing as the punishment continues. I’ve seen welts on others before, I wonder if they look the same on me. I wonder how some of those men managed not to cry out.

Lucius likes it when I cry out. I’m not sure how I know it, I just do. There’s something different in the energy around me, I can feel his magic flare with every gasp that crosses my lips. I can almost feel that cold smile I’ve seen so many times. I can’t decide if crying out more would please him, make this stop sooner, or if it would only make him want to stretch it even longer. I’m not sure how much I can take. It’s different, inflicting pain and feeling it

By the time the caning stops I cannot hold myself up any more. My skin feels like it’s burning, the pain so strong that everything else seems to vanish. Then his hand is on my back again, fingers pressing into the flesh, tracing every line he’s put there. His movements are slow, not meant to cause me pain, but to give him pleasure.

His fingers wrap around my hair, and he yanks my head back. “There are many kinds of punishment,” he says, as he presses himself against my back. I can feel him hard against me. The sick bastard. “You might even come to enjoy some of them.”

Then the chains holding me to the ceiling vanish, and I fall. And he falls against me. His robes are gone, and I can feel his skin against my back, so hot it feels like fire everywhere he touches.

“Please,” I whimper, because it is too much, because I don’t think I can take any more. Because it was a party, and I’d only wanted to have a good time, and Sirius’ stash had been right there. But this punishment was too much. “Please, don’t.”

“No, Mister Black,” he whispers into my ear. “A Pureblood never begs.”

He moves around me, his hands on my hips pull me up onto my hands and knees, and then one of his hands is on my hair, yanking my head back to keep me in place, while the other moves between us, his fingers pressing inside me.

It hurts, and it burns, but still is nothing compared to the pain on my back, to the feeling of Lucius’ hot skin against the welts he left, the pressure of his weight on me.

“A Pureblood behaves in a manner befitting his station,” he says, as he twists his fingers inside me. I know what he’s doing, I know what his deft fingers are searching for, and I silently curse him. “You are to be an example to the Wizarding world.” There, he’s found it, and pleasure flashes through the pain, just for a second, and I want to hold on to it, but I can’t. “At least when you are in public.”

“Make him hard,” another voice says, breathy, soft, startling me. I didn’t know she was here. Bellatrix.

Lucius laughs against my ear, and his fingers go back to that magic spot inside me, and tears finally trail down my cheeks. How sickening is it that a part of me wants this, that I want to feel that pleasure, to forget some of the pain. Something breaks inside me as my cock hardens, just like Bellatrix wanted, and I hear their laughs, low, sultry. Pleased.

“Fuck him hard,” Bellatrix says, her voice louder, closer. “Show him what a Purebloood should be.”

Then Lucius’ cock is pushing inside me, and as I cry out I hear Bellatrix moan. And I wonder if they’re really doing this for me, if it is still meant to be a punishment, or just some sick game between them.

“You must understand pain in order to master it,” Lucius whispers into my ear as he thrusts deep inside me. Then he pulls my arms back, and I come crashing down to the floor, my cheek rubbing onto the stones with every thrust, my knees barely able to hold my weight and his.

My body slides forward as he fucks me, the pain reigniting, and every cry seems to encourage him even more. A hand wraps around my cock, tightens, and I can tell it’s Bellatrix. Her nails dig into my flesh even as she strokes me, as she makes me harder. And my hips thrust into her hand, because I will take anything I can get, anything that will make the pain more tolerable.

She rubs her fingers over the head of my cock, gathering the moisture, and then pushes them deep into my mouth, making me gag, silencing my cries as she moves her hand in rhythm with Lucius’ thrusts. I can hear them kissing above me, I can hear her telling him all the filthy things he should do to me, and as part of me recoils in fear, another part is too far gone, lost in whatever little pleasure it can find amongst the pain.

But Bellatrix’s words have quite an effect on Lucius, his thrusts soon become erratic, his grip on my hips bruising as he thrusts harder and deeper than I thought possible, and he screams as he comes, then bites into my neck to silence the sound. And I’m about to come as well when Bellatrix’s hand wraps around my cock again, tighter and tighter, until I cry out in pain, and frustration, and I feel completely broken.

Lucius slowly pulls out of me, and I can feel his come trail down my thighs. He presses his hand into my skin, rubbing his come onto the welts he created. Then he pushes his fingers inside me again, stretching me open, gathering more come to stain me with.

When he speaks again his voice is low, almost entranced. “I trust you understand what is expected of you from now on,” he says. I nod, even though I’m not sure just what he means. “Good,” he whispers. “Then that will be enough for the punishment tonight. We can move on to the tutelage. I’m sure the Dark Lord will love you.”