phoenixfest (phoenixfest) wrote in phoenix_flies, @ 2007-10-20 00:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | bl/rb, fic: calico_jynx, fic: nc-17, prompt 37 |
Fest Fic: Will you walk into my parlor? said the spider to the fly.
Title: Will you walk into my parlor? said the spider to the fly.
Author: calico_jynx
Beta: ladykryyn thank-you *hugs*
Pairing: Bellatrix/Regulus
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 2545
Warnings: Incest, restraints, insanity
Prompt: #37 - Regulus is unsure about joining Voldemort and goes to his aunt Bella to talk. She seduces him to the Dark Lord's side. Feel free to interpret 'seduction' any way you like. Regulus’s point of view and beautiful Bella very appreciated. for crimson_vipera.
AN – Thanks kit_84 for general neurosis support :*
It was the first time he had visited his Aunt and Uncle’s house without Sirius. He could say his name in his head, where he was the only one listening. Saying his brother’s name was guaranteed to trigger his mother’s cold and often-fatal rage – she killed one of the House elves yesterday because it had asked if Mr. Sirius had any special dietary requirements on this occasion (he had been known to be a vegetarian when it suited him).
Regulus knew what the extended family dinner was really about - Sirius’s estrangement had left Regulus the scion of The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. As such, certain sacrifices were expected, or assumed. Like devoting his life to serving the Darklord, which was the part Sirius had had a problem with.
So, here he was, eating dinner opposite his cousins — two of them anyway, Andromeda was almost as dirty a word here as Sirius was in the Black household — making small talk while the real arrangements would be settled by his Father and Uncle over a bottle of thirty year-old port and a selection of fine Cuban cigars.
Narcissa didn’t know a dark mark from a star sign - if he wanted information, he’d have to ask Bellatrix. The prospect of asking Bellatrix for advice left him apprehensive. Her current state of mind was anyone’s guess - although he had heard the new anti-psycho potions (Sirius’s words) were helping. She certainly seemed calm. Her behavior so far had been impeccable, if a little vacant, and she gazed at things only she could see.
He caught himself staring, or rather she caught him staring, and raised her eyebrows over her wineglass. Had she spoken? He refocused on the small talk but no one appeared to be waiting for him. His father was droning on about the editor of the Prophet retiring.
He raised his eyebrows back and tapped his wineglass twice with his index finger, wondering if she’d remember. When they were children, Sirius had invented a complicated secret code involving all sorts of set movements so they could communicate without the adults knowing. The finger tapping was a signal for Bellatrix to create a diversion - she always had been rather good at dramatics.
Seconds later she coughed delicately into her handkerchief. “May I be excused, Father? I’m afraid the second glass of wine has gone to my head. Perhaps Regulus could escort me to my room? I feel rather giddy.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead.
“Can you wait? We will be retiring to the drawing room momentarily.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Make sure you lie down then.” Cygnus didn’t show any further concern. “It was rather a potent vintage and probably not an advisable combination with your current prescription.”
Regulus groaned inwardly, she’d had about three glasses.
Walburga gave Regulus a pointed look. “Get your cousin some water and stay with her until she feels better.”
“Certainly, Mother.” Regulus half-bowed neatly to the top of the table and moved to assist Bellatrix. He put his arm around her waist and she leaned heavily on him, seemingly unable to support herself.
Druella and Walburga had an intentionally loud conversation about how Bellatrix’s constitution would be much improved if she would eat occasionally, and if she weren’t careful she would blow away in the next stiff wind
When they reached the door, Bellatrix pressed her lips against Regulus’s neck, “want to see my tattoo?” His stomach flipped and her voice dripped with the promise of something he shouldn’t have. He adjusted his arm around her waist so that his hand curled around her hip.
Outside she stood straighter and he started to move his arm, but she held his hand and imitated his stance. They walked side by side and their hips bumped together every third step.
“You’re my favourite you know.” She kissed his cheek and giggled like a schoolgirl.
“I’m only your favourite because Sirius doesn’t come around much anymore.”
She waved her free hand airily. “No sense whining over spilt blood. Might as well lick the wounds and survive until next time.”
Regulus couldn’t help wondering what would happen the next time Sirius and Bellatrix met.
They reached Bellatrix’s room. She casually wafted a few charms at the door and indicated Regulus should open it. He didn’t exactly trust that she had removed all the wards, however if she had left anything it was more likely to be for her own enjoyment, rather than painful - although she might be in the mood to enjoy painful.
She closed the door behind them and presumably reset everything. Before Regulus realised what was happening, she had lifted a glass vase filled with violets and gypsophila, it seemed to fall in slow motion from her fingers. He winced at the crash, but she didn’t even flinch. She bent down and picked up a piece of glass, turning it over for inspection. Miraculously she didn’t draw blood and she calmly repaired the vase and set it back down.
He looked around, anxious to find a topic that wasn’t Bellatrix being crazy. “You’ve redecorated.”
“A little.”
“The mirror is new.”
“A gift, from an admirer.”
“Very pretty.” He had to fight not to fidget as her eyes darted over him, like she was peeling layers of his skin away with her irises. She was probably considering dissecting him to analyse his comment to satisfy her curiosity. He had no doubt she was capable of it.
“Could you help me with my dress?” She turned her back to him and held her hair in one hand. “After all, Father did say I should lie down.”
With any luck all she wanted was sex. Without luck, he couldn’t even make a guess. Regulus took his time unfastening the line of tiny buttons running down her spine. She stepped out of the dress wearing only a black and red corset and black petticoat.
She let her hair go and fluffed it out. There was a bottle of wine on the dressing table and she offered him a glass.
“Mother said water.”
“Father said I should lie down, but I’m not going to do that either.”
He shrugged, took the glass and made himself comfy on the bed. Bellatrix sat facing him with her legs folded underneath her. The tattoo stood out starkly on her pale skin and she stroked it absently. Regulus had never seen a dark mark before. His eyes widened, he could have sworn the snake slithered and hissed, but that could quite possibly have been Bellatrix. He was sure he wasn’t hallucinating when he saw shadows flashing to and fro in the eyes of the skull.
Regulus took an extended sip of his wine, and then another. “Did it hurt?”
“Yes, very much.” Her smile took on a rapturous quality and her eyes shifted from dull to vibrant in seconds. “I have the memory stored in a pensieve, would you like to see it?”
“Maybe later.” He shivered, but he hadn’t expected her to lie to comfort him, she wasn’t that sort of older cousin. “What… how do they-”
“Do you actually want me to tell you?” It was one of her favourite games to taunt her younger cousins with secrets - as such she was rather good at it.
His heart hammered in his chest and it didn’t seem fair that she should be so beautiful. Her eyes were grey like Sirius’s and her lips were a perfect curved bow – she wet them with her tongue while he composed his reply. He sighed. “I can’t change anything. So, yes, I want to know.
“Brave too.” She stroked his cheek “You will be good won’t you Reggie?” She hadn’t called him that for years, but he had started the reminiscing.
“I have to know what it’s like.”
“It’s Sirius’ fault, it’s his fault you have to do this.”
“It’s better this way, Sirius couldn’t have done it, and Voldemort would have killed him. He’d have refused to his face - this way we both live. For a while.”
When Regulus said the Darklord’s name, Bellatrix fluttered her fingertips across the top of her breasts. She cocked her head and seemed to be thinking about what he had said. “Would you like a demonstration?”
She stood and tugged Regulus with her before he could answer. “Accio scarf” She caught an olive green silk scarf as it flew towards her. “You’ll be blindfolded.” She tied the scarf around his eyes. “And disorientated.” He didn’t recognize the charm but he noticed the effects immediately - he floated off the floor and started spinning in mid-air. Bellatrix sang - ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of posies - she twirled her wand and spun him faster and faster. so you won’t tell tales to your Brother.
His stomach churned, and seconds before he lost his dinner, she stopped. His feet hit the ground and he collapsed, his legs folding under him like ribbons.
“Or, they may use a confounding charm.” She was right beside him, he hadn’t heard her move. “Either way you will have no idea where you are.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” Regulus managed to reach a sitting position now that the room had stopped rolling under him.
“Of course you won’t, baby cousin. If you tell, I’ll cut out your tongue. You wouldn’t like that, would you?” Even though she was speaking, she still sounded like a child making up a song. His blood chilled at the ease with which her voice altered to suit her mood.
Regulus held his breath, shocked more by her tone than the threat. “N-no.”
“When they take the blindfold off, you will be awed and speechless at the sight of the assembled Deatheaters.” Her voice rose in a staccato of excitement and without his sight, Regulus began to panic. He let out a shuddering breath when she removed the blindfold.
“The Darklord will grace the meeting with his presence and you will fall to your knees and beg for your own death if he refuses your entry into his illustrious service. After a moment in his company you will realise how worthless your own life is and the only path is that of the Deatheater.”
Regulus doubted it, but he wasn’t suicidal enough to argue with her. She was frightening in her passion. Maybe she and Voldemort were lovers. It would explain some of the fanaticism. Maybe she was just that zealous. As he watched her, her fingers dipped behind the waistband of her petticoat and her eyes glazed over, staring at something above Regulus’s head.
“If you’re accepted the mark will be branded onto your inner forearm. The colours are sealed magically, it’s a spectacular experience.”
Sounded it - Regulus decided it was a good idea to keep the sarcasm in his head. He really wasn’t keen on the permanently scarred aspect of the situation but it didn’t sound like he would have a choice.
Bellatrix was stunning in her insanity. Ebony hair hung in waves down her back and over her shoulders. The corset enhanced her breasts and made her tiny waist smaller. Her cheeks were faintly flushed with arousal and her cheekbones so high they were almost pointed. Full, red lips parted as her fingers moved lower. He could rip the underskirt off her in seconds, but he was content to watch for the time being.
“Maybe we should lie down, I’m starting to feel giddy now.” Regulus adjusted his crotch. His trousers felt about three sizes smaller than they had fifteen minutes ago.
She closed her eyes and smiled. “You lie down. And take that stupid shirt off - you definitely didn’t inherit Sirius taste in clothes.”
“Sirius is gay.”
“Yes, that always was a disappointment.”
“It didn’t stop you!” Regulus dropped his shirt on the floor.
She curled her tongue around the index finger of the hand that had been down her petticoat and sucked it into her mouth. She started moving towards Regulus. “No, but it did occasionally make things unnecessarily difficult.”
He watched the sway of her hips until she stopped in front of him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on you, take you on the good missions.” Regulus hadn’t been particularly worried until she said that. “You can be my whipping boy. I’ve always wanted one of my very own.” She scratched her fingernail down the middle of his chest and hooked it behind the button on his suit trousers.
“And Rodolphus? What of him” He let her pull him forward.
“You’re special, Reggie. Rodolphus is an oaf, in and out the bedroom.”
Regulus snorted. “I could have told you that before you married him.”
She pressed her body flush against his and the lace decoration on the corset felt like sandpaper on his bare chest. “I had no choice - my marriage served a purpose, as will Narcissa’s. Personal feelings are unimportant.”
“You have to admit though, Narcissa got off a lot lighter than you did.”
She smoothed her hands over his shoulders. “Depends on how you look at it.”
“So, I keep you happy and you’ll pull strings for me in the Deatheater ranks?”
“Bravo!" She clapped. "I always thought you were a bit slow, compared to Sirius.”
Regulus gave her a quick look to see if she was joking, though he didn’t think she was. He knew that striking a bargain with Bellatrix was in no way a guarantee that she would keep her side, or even remember she offered. He’d just have to make sure the sex was good enough to remember.
*
On reflection, Regulus was quite happy to admit he did little apart from stay hard while Bellatrix fucked him. He had kissed her and after that, he couldn’t remember another point where he made the first move.
He stretched and rolled his shoulders, groaning as the bones in his neck popped.
She had kept the straitjacket she had been wearing when she was admitted to St Mungo’s as a souvenir and had delighted in introducing Regulus to several alternate uses. It rendered the upper body completely immobile. He lay on his back with Bellatrix on top of him. She touched herself, caressed her own breasts and dipped her fingers into the juncture at the top of her thighs. Regulus’s mouth watered to join in and he strained against the bindings in vain.
Bellatrix steadied Regulus’s cock and lowered herself onto him. He bit his lip and strained his neck to see more of her creamy skin. He was startled at the depth she took him in from the start, only letting up when she was ready to change his position. The straitjacket left him at her mercy, which is where he’d been since he entered her room. Will you walk into my parlor? said the spider to the fly; Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you may spy. (1)
Regulus had asked the questions, but he was certain Bellatrix won whatever today’s exchange had been about. She’d told him only what she wanted to, and made him do exactly what she wanted him to. She might be insane, but she wasn’t stupid. He’d have to remember that.
References
1. The Spider & The Fly by Mary Howit, located in full HERE.