Merry Christmas, philstar22!
Title: Serving Him
Pairing: Bellatrix/Voldemort
Request: "I would real love some Voldemort/Bellatrix. Because there needs to be more V/B in the world. Anything porny would be awesome. Actually, anything would be awesome. I suck at coming up with prompts, though."
Recipient: philstar22
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 800
Bellatrix knelt on the Dark Lord’s bed with her head bowed. She could sense him moving behind her, but she didn’t dare look around at him for fear that he might take it as an act of irreverence - an act that meant to say why are you taking so long? And that was not how she would have intended it.
So she knelt silently and looked at the sheet and didn’t move until she felt his hand on the back of her neck.
“You are my luckiest Death Eater, Bellatrix,” he whispered in her ear, his voice low and smooth. “Lucky to be allowed to serve me in ways that the others can’t…”
“I have no greater wish than to serve you,” she murmured, breath coming quickly.
He pushed her face-first into the pillow, forcing her onto her hands and knees, and Bellatrix found her breath cut off by the fabric. She twisted her head, struggling to breathe, but the Dark Lord held it firmly in place.
“Don’t disappoint me now, Bella,” he murmured, and his voice was almost tender. “I know that you wouldn’t want to disappoint me - not here, not now…” His hand moved slowly over her hip and she shuddered at his touch.
“I don’t want to disappoint you, my Lord,” she echoed, voice muffled in the pillow.
“Good… good girl…” His hand moved between her thighs, caressing the curves of her backside. “You want to please me, yes?”
“Yes.”
He thrust into her hard and fast and Bellatrix was grateful for the pillow then, because it stifled the moan that she could not help releasing. Her muscles fluttered around the Dark Lord’s length and an ache was already building in her lower stomach. He grasped her hips to give himself leverage. Bellatrix wished that she had the nerve to put her fingers on her clit, but she suspected that the Dark Lord would take it as an insinuation that she wanted pleasure beyond what he was already granting her, and she didn’t think that he would like that. She was, after all, not supposed to be getting pleasure from this.
But she was - oh, she was.
Her body clenched around him. She arched backwards, mentally begging him to go deeper, to fill her up and satisfy her the way no other man ever had or ever could.
Bellatrix screamed into the pillow when she felt him brush against the most sensitive spot inside her.
“M- my Lord- you’re- oh!” she cried, and then his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her up so that her back was pressed against her chest. Bellatrix could see herself in the mirror, her breasts heaving and bouncing, her juices streaming down her inner thighs, and the look of absolute ecstasy that passed across her face every time the Dark Lord thrust into her.
“Look at yourself,” he ordered her in a hiss. “And count yourself lucky that I allow you such pleasure…”
“My Lord, I need-”
“Need what, Bellatrix?” His nails dug into her skin and Bellatrix buckled in his arms. “What do you need that I have not already given you?”
“R- release-” The word tore itself from Bellatrix’s throat in a half-formed desperate moan, and the Dark Lord laughed.
“Don’t you think, Bella,” he breathed, not even slowing his pace, “that it’s a bit greedy of you to want me to give you release when I am already doing so much for you?”
Bellatrix nodded, tears of want spilling down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak any more - all she could do was tremble in her master’s arms and silently plead for him to finish her. She felt his lips brush against her throat and his arms tightened around her. He moaned quietly - a noise that gave Bellatrix pleasure nearly as intense as the feeling of him inside her - and she felt a rush of hot liquid inside her. He pulled back slowly and Bellatrix collapsed onto the bed, trembling.
The Dark Lord’s face was slick with perspiration and his eyes hazy. “You please me, Bellatrix.”
“Th- thank you, my Lord.” Bellatrix pulled herself upright, her whole body shaking. “I- I aim to please you, my Lord.” She looked at him desperately, trying to catch his eye so that she could indicate how desperately she wanted him to finish her, but he had turned away already.
And so Bellatrix sat on the bed, the pain of frustration so intense in her stomach that she could hardly breathe and watched her master redress. She would have given anything to beg for him to come back, but she didn’t, and he left her alone, left her tearful and desperate for him.
She served him as well as she knew how, and he still gave her no mind.
)O(
Fin
Pairing: Bellatrix/Voldemort
Request: "I would real love some Voldemort/Bellatrix. Because there needs to be more V/B in the world. Anything porny would be awesome. Actually, anything would be awesome. I suck at coming up with prompts, though."
Recipient: philstar22
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 800
Bellatrix knelt on the Dark Lord’s bed with her head bowed. She could sense him moving behind her, but she didn’t dare look around at him for fear that he might take it as an act of irreverence - an act that meant to say why are you taking so long? And that was not how she would have intended it.
So she knelt silently and looked at the sheet and didn’t move until she felt his hand on the back of her neck.
“You are my luckiest Death Eater, Bellatrix,” he whispered in her ear, his voice low and smooth. “Lucky to be allowed to serve me in ways that the others can’t…”
“I have no greater wish than to serve you,” she murmured, breath coming quickly.
He pushed her face-first into the pillow, forcing her onto her hands and knees, and Bellatrix found her breath cut off by the fabric. She twisted her head, struggling to breathe, but the Dark Lord held it firmly in place.
“Don’t disappoint me now, Bella,” he murmured, and his voice was almost tender. “I know that you wouldn’t want to disappoint me - not here, not now…” His hand moved slowly over her hip and she shuddered at his touch.
“I don’t want to disappoint you, my Lord,” she echoed, voice muffled in the pillow.
“Good… good girl…” His hand moved between her thighs, caressing the curves of her backside. “You want to please me, yes?”
“Yes.”
He thrust into her hard and fast and Bellatrix was grateful for the pillow then, because it stifled the moan that she could not help releasing. Her muscles fluttered around the Dark Lord’s length and an ache was already building in her lower stomach. He grasped her hips to give himself leverage. Bellatrix wished that she had the nerve to put her fingers on her clit, but she suspected that the Dark Lord would take it as an insinuation that she wanted pleasure beyond what he was already granting her, and she didn’t think that he would like that. She was, after all, not supposed to be getting pleasure from this.
But she was - oh, she was.
Her body clenched around him. She arched backwards, mentally begging him to go deeper, to fill her up and satisfy her the way no other man ever had or ever could.
Bellatrix screamed into the pillow when she felt him brush against the most sensitive spot inside her.
“M- my Lord- you’re- oh!” she cried, and then his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her up so that her back was pressed against her chest. Bellatrix could see herself in the mirror, her breasts heaving and bouncing, her juices streaming down her inner thighs, and the look of absolute ecstasy that passed across her face every time the Dark Lord thrust into her.
“Look at yourself,” he ordered her in a hiss. “And count yourself lucky that I allow you such pleasure…”
“My Lord, I need-”
“Need what, Bellatrix?” His nails dug into her skin and Bellatrix buckled in his arms. “What do you need that I have not already given you?”
“R- release-” The word tore itself from Bellatrix’s throat in a half-formed desperate moan, and the Dark Lord laughed.
“Don’t you think, Bella,” he breathed, not even slowing his pace, “that it’s a bit greedy of you to want me to give you release when I am already doing so much for you?”
Bellatrix nodded, tears of want spilling down her cheeks. She couldn’t speak any more - all she could do was tremble in her master’s arms and silently plead for him to finish her. She felt his lips brush against her throat and his arms tightened around her. He moaned quietly - a noise that gave Bellatrix pleasure nearly as intense as the feeling of him inside her - and she felt a rush of hot liquid inside her. He pulled back slowly and Bellatrix collapsed onto the bed, trembling.
The Dark Lord’s face was slick with perspiration and his eyes hazy. “You please me, Bellatrix.”
“Th- thank you, my Lord.” Bellatrix pulled herself upright, her whole body shaking. “I- I aim to please you, my Lord.” She looked at him desperately, trying to catch his eye so that she could indicate how desperately she wanted him to finish her, but he had turned away already.
And so Bellatrix sat on the bed, the pain of frustration so intense in her stomach that she could hardly breathe and watched her master redress. She would have given anything to beg for him to come back, but she didn’t, and he left her alone, left her tearful and desperate for him.
She served him as well as she knew how, and he still gave her no mind.
)O(
Fin