A Bellamort Tale

Part 4

This despicable, earthly desire had died with him when his curse had backfired in Godric's Hollow back then, but as soon as he had freed his most loyal servants from Azkaban and she had come to Malfoy Manor, emaciated and almost completely mad, he had for the very first time in his existence felt compassionate. Shortly after that, as Bellatrix had slowly regained some weight and had started to act almost like her former self, he had started to feel those other things again and he wasn't able to contain them much longer or he would go completely insane.

Standing right before her, more than a year later, triumphant over Dumbledore's death, seeing the glee in her eyes and features for the same reason, he couldn't hold back anymore.

"As I have your consent now, Bellatrix, you certainly won't mind if I..."

He glared at her revealing cleavage, as he slowly began to unlace the corsage in the back, with his fingers, not by using magic.

"I've always been yours, my Lord. I've always loathed being with my husband, knowing that he was only tainting my body, as it wasn't his to touch. It was yours from the beginning."

"Prove it, Bella! Show me that you want me to do this with you!" He growled in a deep voice, making the witch's intimates cringe painfully. But knowing what followed the pain, she willingly accepted it, as it happened only when she got very quickly very aroused.

Bellatrix was reluctant as she lifted her arms and tried to figure out where to begin, not knowing what he expected her to do, so much even that her occluded mind opened up to him for the split of a second. Voldemort raised his eyebrows, never before seeing her doubting her skills.

"Whatever you're going to do, Bellatrix, I will experience it for the first time. I never before had those urges. They're only there when I..."

He stopped and angrily hissed.

"Stop trying to get into my mind. How dare you try to read my thoughts."

He had grabbed her hands again and half threw half pushed her across the room, making her land on the edge of her bed, her back hitting the wooden frame and she yelped in pain.

The dark lord noticed his anger becoming less, seeing the look on her face and despite still being irritated he approached her again, allowing her to speak.

"My lord, I swear, I only tried to read that little bit of your mind where I could find your desires. Nothing more, nothing that could ever harm you if being forced out of me in any way. I have devoted my entire existence to you, to do your bidding whatever it might be. But I don't feel like doing enough all of the time and always fear I could have done more if I had made more of an effort. Punish me, torture me, I don't care. All I care about is your well-being and your happiness, master." She slightly lifted her head, taking a glimpse at his face, to figure out if she was allowed to go on. He noticed and ordered.

"What else is there? I demand that you tell me. Why did you try to get into my head?"

She cleared her throat, trying to get into a sitting position and away from the hard wood that still pressed into her lower back, so she could talk more easily.

Closing the gap between them with furious steps, he hissed.

"Stop it!"

Then Voldemort grabbed her arms forcefully and lifted her into a sitting position.

"Speak!"

Bellatrix took a deep breath then quietly croaked.

"I had the feeling that you weren't completely honest and that despite never having done anything of it, you had a couple of images in your mind of how you wanted it to be. I was looking for those, my Lord!"

She thought her eyes were playing a trick on her or that she was hallucinating like she did when she was still in her cell in Azkaban, but after blinking a few times, the woman was certain. He had blushed.

Giving her confidence an enormous raise, she carefully reached out to him again, not waiting for his answer or reaction to her suggestion, but boldly stroking from his shoulders to his chest, her hands lingering there for a moment, before she let them move further and around him, untying his robe and letting it fall to the floor.

He stood before her, wearing some old fashioned piece of underwear, almost like a toddler's onesie and she had to bite her lower lip not to giggle.

After several failed attempts to open the thing, she gave up and pleaded impatiently.

"My lord, how do you open this... thing?"

Still overwhelmed by her sudden confidence and boldness, he looked down at her in bewilderment.

"Huh?" Came from his mouth, not knowing what she meant.

"Whatever it is you're wearing, my Lord, I can't find a way to open it. May I suggest to let me order a house-elf in the morning to get you something more, well, modern and practical?" She asked hesitantly.

"Careful Bellatrix. This was the second time in only a few minutes that you made me feel ashamed. I accept your offer, if you also order the elf to not tell anyone. I never cared about things like that and as I am quite a bit older than you are, that's what I grew up with."

Bellatrix let him read the thought she had, when seeing the underwear and made him snort.

"A toddler? Well, I understand your reaction then. I certainly hope modern underwear won't be too uncomfortable."

She looked at his chest in disbelief.

"This feels like it was made out of a bowtruckle's skin. I am very certain the modern fabrics will be way more suitable for the greatest and fiercest magician of all times."

As he let her rabbit about modern clothes and how very much it had changed during her time spent in prison, he slipped out of his undergarments and let them together with his robes from the floor soar to the hanger on the side of her closet. Bellatrix watched the clothes do so, not daring to look at her naked master without his direct permission.

Seizing the moment when she was facing away from him, he stepped behind her, finishing what he had started and completely opening the bodice of her dress.

Bellatrix let him do so, yet her legs were shaking and she had to lean into his touch before they would give in and she would fall to the floor.

His skin was hot and her from the cold and damp night hypothermic body pushed into him on instinct to relish in his warmth. Voldemort reacted fast and laid his arms around her, holding her close as he spoke into her ear,

"Turn around to me."