Finsternis - A gift for gamma_x_orionis!
Title: Finsternis
Author: roadkill2580
Recipient: gamma_x_orionis
Pairings: Rodolphus/Narcissa, implied Rodolphus/Bellatrix
Word Count: 1531
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Humiliation, bondage, graphic torture, hints at bdsm, sadism, non con
Summary: Narcissa has to pay for her mistakes.
Author's Notes: I don't think this is quite what my recipient wanted, so hopefully they won't be too upset with the tangent I took.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. At all. End of story.
In the wake of Bellatrix's insanity and flare for both dueling and torture, everyone always forgot about her just as dangerous husband, Rodolphus. Including Narcissa. It was a mistake she was paying most dearly for.
Her chest heaved with exertion as he lifted the Cruciatus. His face had lost its usually indifferent expression to wear a look of utter rage, and just beneath it, despair. If she had thought that Azkaban hadn't been kind for him, it was nothing compared to the loss of his beloved and sadistic wife. Her sister. The one whose death she had inadvertently caused by betraying the Dark Lord.
He paced slowly in front of her, wand rolling between his fingers. Narcissa wondered what was taking him so long. It wasn't as if he wasn't creative enough or was lacking for methods of torture. There was a reason Rodolphus was one of the best interrogators, and it wasn't just because of his cruel nature.
At last, he spoke.
"I could forgive you the lie. You were trying to protect that gutless whelp you call a son. Had it been Bellatrix's life in danger, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same. But your lie put her in danger. Your lie killed her. And I cannot forgive that." He twisted his wrist violently. She barely had time to wonder what he had done before the pain registered.
Blood flooded her mouth and poured from her open lips. Her tongue flopped uselessly in her mouth, and the lack of sensation from it made it seem as if there was simply a lump of meat rolling around in her mouth. Disgusted, horrified, and in blinding pain, she spit out the severed end of her tongue before the raw pain made her scream. She jerked against the chains and hit her head against the wall, trying anything to distract herself from the agony in the lower half of her face.
"You will never tell another lie again."
OooooO
"Do try to hold still, Narcissa. I'm not nearly as good with a knife as Rabastan was," Rodolphus casually warned. Said knife hovered over the lips of her pussy. There were tiny cuts on the sensitive skin there, made from her own restless twitching. The dildo made of ginger that plugged up her arse burned relentlessly. Any attempt to escape the burning resulted in her pushing herself up against the knife above her slit.
Narcissa gasped out a sob when she felt the cold bite of steel. Then came the stinging pain. Over and over, he cut into her. Her pelvis and thighs trembled. She couldn't decide whether to jerk away from the knife or the too large dildo. One such jerk brought the tip of the knife between her nether lips. Rodolphus smiled at her whimper.
"I could do it, you know. Fuck you with this blade. Listen to you scream while it cuts you from the inside out." Narcissa shivered in response to his low spoken promise. A cold, heavy knot of fear and dread coiled in her stomach. She keened softly, wished she could beg, plead, apologize, anything to make this stop. It wasn't like she had wanted Bellatrix to die. Fierce, proud, insane Bellatrix, the one who burned the brightest of all the Blacks. Certainly Narcissa feared her, but she loved her. She'd never meant for her to die.
When he unexpectedly pulled the knife away, she heaved a gusty breath of relief. The ginger still threatened to drive her mad with its burn, but with the dissipation of the fear of the knife, the pain of the ginger somehow lessened. And then Rodolphus withdrew a handful of shiny needles.
"Have you ever been pierced anywhere besides your ears, Narcissa?" She slowly shook her head in response, horror dawning on her. He leaned down over her body and smiled. His free hand softly stroked her quivering flesh.
Her shrieking began anew when he deftly pinched a bit of skin and slid a needle through it. He began on her stomach, two lines of silver needles covering the length of her abdomen, on either side of her belly button. Then he pierced her breasts. First, a circle following the darker circle that topped her breasts, and then, the nipples. Rodolphus then secured her ankles to the table she was chained to and began sliding more needles into the silky skin of her inner thighs. He slowly worked his way upwards and she knew there was nowhere else left he could desire to pierce with those sharp little needles. The sharp pain shredded her scraps of control and she broke down into a incoherent mass of skin and needles. Every jerk tightened the muscles of her arse, which only made the pain from the ginger flare. No matter what she did, she couldn't escape it. She was entirely at his mercy.
She began to cry unabashedly when she felt him spread her folds. Methodically, he pierced each side with a needle. Rodolphus was completely unhurried and waited for her thrashing to calm before he started again. One after another a needle entered her skin, until her pussy was lined with them. And then, his fingers, so gentle and at odds with the torture they were inflicting, captured her clit. Forgetting she was lacking her tongue, she tried to beg him to spare her this one thing, but he ignored her. As she felt the needle prick her clit, she thought this might even be as painful as the Cruciatus.
When it was over, she gasped as much for air as she did for composure. The needles stung and itched in her flesh, but if she relaxed, she found that she could almost tolerate them. As for Rodolphus, he looked pleased with his work, his expression almost admiring. Narcissa chanced a look down her body. The needles caught the light from above and shone silver, much like the jewelry she had once adorned on her ears and wrists.
"Very pretty. Bellatrix would've liked to have seen this," Rodolphus commented. He idly twisted a needle, causing her to yelp. After a few more minutes of observing her reactions to the tugging and twisting of the needles, he began to pull them out.
Her screaming resumed as he started to insert them again.
OooooO
Narcissa was a very proud woman. She was also a Slytherin. So when it came to certain things, she wasn't afraid to give up her pride and humiliate herself if it meant survival. Because that's what she needed to do. She needed to survive this torture and make it home to her family again. Except she wasn't sure she would make it home again. Despair constantly warred with self preservation inside her mind.
Everyday, she told herself she could live with whatever new method he came up with. She could live with him dragging her along on a leash and collar. She could live with the weighted clamps on her nipples. She could live with him inserting objects into every orifice she had. She could even live with sucking him off and swallowing his come afterwards.
But she wasn't sure if she could live with him raping her .
Everything up until that point, while personal, wasn't the same as him holding her down with his bare hands, pushing into her, panting over her, coming inside her. And that's exactly what he was now doing.
His cock tore at her dry flesh and his hips thrust against her roughly. When he began, Rodolphus' face had been etched with fury, but as the pleasure overtook him, he arched his neck and closed his eyes. When he began to mutter the word "Mistress" with a reverent voice, Narcissa knew he had forgotten he was raping her, and instead was lost in his memories of Bellatrix. But Narcissa did not have that luxury.
What should have only belonged to Lucius was being stolen from her, and she was helpless to stop it. And Narcissa could not dishonor Lucius by pretending that Rodolphus was her husband. Lucius would never rape her. Lucius would never beat her, or torture her. He might have been a condescending bastard, might not love her, but he had always treated her with some modicum of respect.
After what seemed an eternity, she felt Rodolphus reach his peak, and then he collapsed over. He held her for a few moments and his hands tenderly stroked her, until he seemed to come to his senses. But the rage did not come to him immediately. Instead, he became overcome with sorrow. With his face buried in her neck, she could hear him call out for his lost wife.
As he mourned, she flexed her arms, testing to see if they still remained unbound. And unbound they were. Painfully slow, she stretched her arm down to his robes that hung from his body, her hand searching for his wand. A moment was all she needed. When her fingers met wood, she bared her teeth in a smile. She had made the mistake of underestimating Rodolphus. But he had made the mistake in underestimating her. He wouldn't live very long to regret it.
Author: roadkill2580
Recipient: gamma_x_orionis
Pairings: Rodolphus/Narcissa, implied Rodolphus/Bellatrix
Word Count: 1531
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Humiliation, bondage, graphic torture, hints at bdsm, sadism, non con
Summary: Narcissa has to pay for her mistakes.
Author's Notes: I don't think this is quite what my recipient wanted, so hopefully they won't be too upset with the tangent I took.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. At all. End of story.
In the wake of Bellatrix's insanity and flare for both dueling and torture, everyone always forgot about her just as dangerous husband, Rodolphus. Including Narcissa. It was a mistake she was paying most dearly for.
Her chest heaved with exertion as he lifted the Cruciatus. His face had lost its usually indifferent expression to wear a look of utter rage, and just beneath it, despair. If she had thought that Azkaban hadn't been kind for him, it was nothing compared to the loss of his beloved and sadistic wife. Her sister. The one whose death she had inadvertently caused by betraying the Dark Lord.
He paced slowly in front of her, wand rolling between his fingers. Narcissa wondered what was taking him so long. It wasn't as if he wasn't creative enough or was lacking for methods of torture. There was a reason Rodolphus was one of the best interrogators, and it wasn't just because of his cruel nature.
At last, he spoke.
"I could forgive you the lie. You were trying to protect that gutless whelp you call a son. Had it been Bellatrix's life in danger, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same. But your lie put her in danger. Your lie killed her. And I cannot forgive that." He twisted his wrist violently. She barely had time to wonder what he had done before the pain registered.
Blood flooded her mouth and poured from her open lips. Her tongue flopped uselessly in her mouth, and the lack of sensation from it made it seem as if there was simply a lump of meat rolling around in her mouth. Disgusted, horrified, and in blinding pain, she spit out the severed end of her tongue before the raw pain made her scream. She jerked against the chains and hit her head against the wall, trying anything to distract herself from the agony in the lower half of her face.
"You will never tell another lie again."
OooooO
"Do try to hold still, Narcissa. I'm not nearly as good with a knife as Rabastan was," Rodolphus casually warned. Said knife hovered over the lips of her pussy. There were tiny cuts on the sensitive skin there, made from her own restless twitching. The dildo made of ginger that plugged up her arse burned relentlessly. Any attempt to escape the burning resulted in her pushing herself up against the knife above her slit.
Narcissa gasped out a sob when she felt the cold bite of steel. Then came the stinging pain. Over and over, he cut into her. Her pelvis and thighs trembled. She couldn't decide whether to jerk away from the knife or the too large dildo. One such jerk brought the tip of the knife between her nether lips. Rodolphus smiled at her whimper.
"I could do it, you know. Fuck you with this blade. Listen to you scream while it cuts you from the inside out." Narcissa shivered in response to his low spoken promise. A cold, heavy knot of fear and dread coiled in her stomach. She keened softly, wished she could beg, plead, apologize, anything to make this stop. It wasn't like she had wanted Bellatrix to die. Fierce, proud, insane Bellatrix, the one who burned the brightest of all the Blacks. Certainly Narcissa feared her, but she loved her. She'd never meant for her to die.
When he unexpectedly pulled the knife away, she heaved a gusty breath of relief. The ginger still threatened to drive her mad with its burn, but with the dissipation of the fear of the knife, the pain of the ginger somehow lessened. And then Rodolphus withdrew a handful of shiny needles.
"Have you ever been pierced anywhere besides your ears, Narcissa?" She slowly shook her head in response, horror dawning on her. He leaned down over her body and smiled. His free hand softly stroked her quivering flesh.
Her shrieking began anew when he deftly pinched a bit of skin and slid a needle through it. He began on her stomach, two lines of silver needles covering the length of her abdomen, on either side of her belly button. Then he pierced her breasts. First, a circle following the darker circle that topped her breasts, and then, the nipples. Rodolphus then secured her ankles to the table she was chained to and began sliding more needles into the silky skin of her inner thighs. He slowly worked his way upwards and she knew there was nowhere else left he could desire to pierce with those sharp little needles. The sharp pain shredded her scraps of control and she broke down into a incoherent mass of skin and needles. Every jerk tightened the muscles of her arse, which only made the pain from the ginger flare. No matter what she did, she couldn't escape it. She was entirely at his mercy.
She began to cry unabashedly when she felt him spread her folds. Methodically, he pierced each side with a needle. Rodolphus was completely unhurried and waited for her thrashing to calm before he started again. One after another a needle entered her skin, until her pussy was lined with them. And then, his fingers, so gentle and at odds with the torture they were inflicting, captured her clit. Forgetting she was lacking her tongue, she tried to beg him to spare her this one thing, but he ignored her. As she felt the needle prick her clit, she thought this might even be as painful as the Cruciatus.
When it was over, she gasped as much for air as she did for composure. The needles stung and itched in her flesh, but if she relaxed, she found that she could almost tolerate them. As for Rodolphus, he looked pleased with his work, his expression almost admiring. Narcissa chanced a look down her body. The needles caught the light from above and shone silver, much like the jewelry she had once adorned on her ears and wrists.
"Very pretty. Bellatrix would've liked to have seen this," Rodolphus commented. He idly twisted a needle, causing her to yelp. After a few more minutes of observing her reactions to the tugging and twisting of the needles, he began to pull them out.
Her screaming resumed as he started to insert them again.
OooooO
Narcissa was a very proud woman. She was also a Slytherin. So when it came to certain things, she wasn't afraid to give up her pride and humiliate herself if it meant survival. Because that's what she needed to do. She needed to survive this torture and make it home to her family again. Except she wasn't sure she would make it home again. Despair constantly warred with self preservation inside her mind.
Everyday, she told herself she could live with whatever new method he came up with. She could live with him dragging her along on a leash and collar. She could live with the weighted clamps on her nipples. She could live with him inserting objects into every orifice she had. She could even live with sucking him off and swallowing his come afterwards.
But she wasn't sure if she could live with him raping her .
Everything up until that point, while personal, wasn't the same as him holding her down with his bare hands, pushing into her, panting over her, coming inside her. And that's exactly what he was now doing.
His cock tore at her dry flesh and his hips thrust against her roughly. When he began, Rodolphus' face had been etched with fury, but as the pleasure overtook him, he arched his neck and closed his eyes. When he began to mutter the word "Mistress" with a reverent voice, Narcissa knew he had forgotten he was raping her, and instead was lost in his memories of Bellatrix. But Narcissa did not have that luxury.
What should have only belonged to Lucius was being stolen from her, and she was helpless to stop it. And Narcissa could not dishonor Lucius by pretending that Rodolphus was her husband. Lucius would never rape her. Lucius would never beat her, or torture her. He might have been a condescending bastard, might not love her, but he had always treated her with some modicum of respect.
After what seemed an eternity, she felt Rodolphus reach his peak, and then he collapsed over. He held her for a few moments and his hands tenderly stroked her, until he seemed to come to his senses. But the rage did not come to him immediately. Instead, he became overcome with sorrow. With his face buried in her neck, she could hear him call out for his lost wife.
As he mourned, she flexed her arms, testing to see if they still remained unbound. And unbound they were. Painfully slow, she stretched her arm down to his robes that hung from his body, her hand searching for his wand. A moment was all she needed. When her fingers met wood, she bared her teeth in a smile. She had made the mistake of underestimating Rodolphus. But he had made the mistake in underestimating her. He wouldn't live very long to regret it.