FicWad

A/N: Alright, there's gonna be a lot of sex in this story. This chapter, specifically, contains a lot of sex, torture and rape. This is as far as I've gotten until now, but don't expect more updates frequently.

I AM NOT GOING TO GIVE LEMON WARNINGS...MOST OF THIS CHAPTER IS FULL OF LEMON SCENES.

And, err...tell me if you puke or something; it might just make my day, in a perverse manner.

Reviewer responses:

Clashina: Ha. Ha ha ha. Funny, but keep reading.
Jbern: Cheers.
Relentless: Have fun.
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Chapter 2: Family

Harry carelessly removed Rudolphus' dead body from the windowsill, making sure that no Order Member saw it. A wave of the dead man's wand caused the blood and gore to disappear from the windowsill. A repeat caused the same material to vanish from the room. He used the charm a third time, now concentrating really hard, and said in a focused voice "Evanesco!" The vanishing spell worked almost perfectly, causing Rudolphus' entire body to disappear, leaving only meaningless bits of hair on the ground. Harry nodded to himself in satisfaction, and turned to the rest of his problem.

Bellatrix Lestrange...now made Bellatrix Black by force.

Surprisingly, she was not holding a wand, or even acting threatening. Instead, she was still sitting kneeled down where she had been previously, and was staring at Harry in disbelief.

Still naked, Harry unconcernedly went over and sat on the bed with his legs parted slightly, giving her a full view of his crotch. A slight blush graced her cheeks as she stared at him.

"Potter...what the hell was that? You're a good guy! You aren't supposed to do these things!" The words burst out of her mouth, her disbelief for the situation evident in the nervous tone of her voice.

Potter simply smirked at her, his eyes leering suggestively. Her answering blush was all he needed, for he lifted his hand and crooked a finger at her, crudely beckoning her towards him. She stood shakily, not moving towards him in the least. A slight frown marred his handsome features, but disappeared quickly enough.

He rose from the bed smoothly and swept over to her. In a flash, he was grasping her by the neck, and had pushed her gently against the wall. Curiously, she thought, Potter had made no move to remove the wand from her hand, as she had wildly grasped for it as he propelled her towards the wall. Under the pale light of the bulb, he curiously examined her face, his left hand trailing fingers across her features with impossible gentleness.

She gulped nervously, an action that was wholly out of character for Bellatrix Lestrange, the infamous Death Eater, known widely for her rage and perverse torture.

His curious examination apparently over with, he whispered "For two months, Bellatrix, I have dreamed of this moment. Two whole months. Since that night at the Ministry, I have thought of you..."

His fingers began to touch her face again, softly running over her features with sensual grace.

"What eyes you have," he whispered, staring into them, "and those lips...your hair. For two months, I have lusted for you Bellatrix." She shuddered in his grip, quailing under his intense gaze. His lips grazed the line of her jaw as they moved towards her ear, flicking his tongue out to tease it. As she shivered in his grip, he moved back to look her in the eyes.

'Lust?' she thought. 'He lusts after me?" Harry interpreted her gaze perfectly, whispering "Do not look so doubtful...you are an incredibly beautiful woman. But no...it is your fervor that I lust after, the insanity of your thought; your utter lack of inhibition."

A gasp rose from her mouth unbidden as she stared into his entrancing eyes. A small smile spread on his face as he whispered "You have what I want. Are you willing to give it to me?"

Mouth surprisingly dry, she noted the feel of her body fully pressed against his as he held her against the wall. Unable to look in his eyes, she averted her own, staring at his chest instead.

"I-I cannot," she whispered miserably, "the Master will kill me." Nervously, she looked up, remembering what he had just done to her husband and hoped for the best concerning her own possibly short future.

Ex-Husband!!! Her mind screamed. The smile widened into a grin as he whispered "If you are willing to give me what I seek, I will give your master an offer that he cannot refuse. Your life for his." She opened her mouth to give a retort in defense of her Lord, but it died away in the depths of her throat as she saw into his eyes. His power was visible in them as he spoke, a sure sign of the fact that he could certainly achieve that.

She gave a hesitant nod, unable to look away. His grin returned as he saw her nod once more, a more determined action than before. His grip on her neck relaxed as his right hand fell down to hold her by the waist as he gently kissed her lips. He pulled her away from the wall and turned her around, pressing her back against his front. A hand moved her silky black hair to the side, and his lips pressed against her neck, sucking on her skin with sensual passion.

Her moan was accompanied by a clattering sound as her wand slipped from her fingers. His hands slipped around her waist to undo her robe, and with a feather light movement, he slipped it off her frame. Almost in a daze from the unreal pleasure she was experiencing, she absently noted that there should have been no possible way for him to stimulate her so much by simply kissing her neck, no matter how passionately he did it.

Azkaban had made her gaunt and frail, but she had enough skill in Potions to create the potions needed for the Ritual of Restoration. It had taken eight months to brew, but it had been finished three weeks after the night at the Department of Mysteries. A time-turner could work wonders. Her youthful splendor had returned, adding meat to her bones, changing the texture of her skin, restoring her beautiful hair and ridding her of her wrinkles. No more did she look gaunt and pale; no more did she have the skull-like appearance. At the age of thirty seven, she looked twenty two at the most.

Now divest of her robes, she stood in slacks and a blouse, both midnight black in color. His hands gripped at her waist again, pressing her firmly against his crotch to show her his excitement. A low moan escaped her throat as his lips reattached themselves to her neck. His hands lifted her blouse over her head, and opened the button of her slacks. He slid her pants down slowly, pressing kisses against the bare skin of her back. She hurriedly kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the trousers, turning towards him.

He pulled her into his arms, clutching at her firm rear, his lips crashing down on hers. She moaned into his mouth as their tongues met, and he undid the clasp of her bra with clumsy fingers. With a feverish pace, he pulled her panties down, using his foot to push them all the way to the ground so she could step out of them. Then, he had lifted her up in the air and had thrown her on the bed. A sensual madness glinting in his eyes, he climbed on top of her, kissing her hard.

His mouth worked clumsy wonders on her, devouring her skin wherever he could reach. His hands kneaded her breasts as his mouth licked and sucked on her dark nipples, arousing them to hardness. She could feel his erection against her inner thigh, and she began to feel the wetness between her legs as her arousal grew greater and greater. Shivering with anticipation as she felt his massive organ straining against her flesh, she grasped his wandering head by the hair tightly, mashing his face against her breasts. With no warning, he had suddenly plunged deep inside her, filling her like no man ever could. A scream of pleasure and pain tore itself from her throat. With frantic movements he plunged in and out of her, unable to stop himself from suckling her skin all through it.

Minutes later they reached a frantic pace, and Bellatrix could feel her orgasm building to shattering proportions. His moans were growing louder, and he pulled all the way out of her just as she let loose with a guttural scream of pleasure, climaxing harder than she ever had before. Sitting up on his knees he stroked his length with his hand while his other hand slipped into her hair to hold her head firmly. She removed his hand from his shaft and stroked it with her own, noting the slick sensation of her juices on it. Opening her mouth, she put her lips around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around it as if it were a delicacy.

Harry was taken over the edge by her action, the warmth and wetness of her mouth as well as the sensation of her tongue causing him to burst in her mouth with a shout of pleasure. Numerous, thick ropes of salty semen splattered the inside of her mouth, more than she could hold, forcing her to swallow once. She sucked and stroked him until he was dry, squeezing every last drop out of him. She swallowed yet again, absently noting that he had unloaded a truly massive amount into her mouth, and in her post-orgasmic state slumped against his abdomen, still gripping him tightly. His fingers laced into her hair, gently holding her head as he breathed hard and fast.

Gradually, he came down off his high. She moved off him, now looking at him with uncertainty. Slowly, he lowered himself down to her level and stared at her, admiring the violet eyes filled with lust and nervousness. The glint of madness had not disappeared, he contentedly noted. His fingers wound themselves into her hair and he drew her in for a kiss, experimentally tasting her mouth. As their tongues met, he absently noted that the semen had added a slight salty tinge to the otherwise honey-flavored mouth. He pulled away and sat down on the bed next to her, drawing her sweaty body onto his. She clung to his chest, visibly exhausted by their romp, her head nestled into the crook of his neck.

He gasped as her tongue flicked out at his collarbone, and then swirled around his Adam's apple as she sucked on it. Slowly, he leaned back in the bed until he was lying down, and pulled her fully on top of him so that she straddled his hips. Her ministrations had not ceased, and he moaned into her ear, fingers clutching at her body in ecstasy. He felt himself getting hard again, the insistent length of his member straining against her hot center as it hardened jerkily. Pausing, she looked him in the eye, wondering what he expected of her. She noticed that he had become aroused remarkably fast after such a strenuous romp...unnaturally fast.

His right hand was gripping her breast, thumb stroking her nipple, and he dragged it down her abdomen, awkwardly straightening his elbow under her body. His fingers found her wetness, gently stroking at her outer lips with abandon. She groaned into his neck, biting down to stifle a scream as he brushed against her clit. She arched her back, mewling sexily, and presented her breasts to his face. His hand moved from her, eliciting a groan of protest, until he used it to guide his throbbing organ into her center, plunging it into her harshly by pulling her body down on him. Her back arched and her head was thrown back in pain and ecstasy as she released a scream from the very depths of her soul.

Still dazed from the massive penetration, she somehow managed to start bouncing on him, gyrating her hips as she rode him to increase the pleasure for both parties. His breath was shallow, as was hers, incredible pleasure rolling through them in waves. His hands rose to cup her breasts, kneading them furiously and causing painful pleasure to the woman mounted on him. He seemed to be getting off on simply the view of her beautiful flesh moving above him, dancing around with her movements enticingly. She gasped as his fingers pinched her nipples, squeezing her breasts pleasurably, and bent down to latch her lips to his, viciously attacking his mouth with hers.

She felt her climax building up like a massive surge of magic, and screamed as it struck her, driving her hard enough that she convulsed, her body jerking around in his grasp. Her movements were an aphrodisiac to him as they caused her muscles to clench around his cock, squeezing as she bounced up one last time. The movement practically coaxed the orgasm out of him, and with a loud moan he came again, jerking as his seed exploded into her body forcefully.

She collapsed against him as his member, rapidly softening after the intense orgasm, extracted itself from within her with a flopping sound, causing a mix of their juices to drip from her and land on his lower abdomen. Head burrowed into his neck, she breathed heavily, sweat glistening on her brow and neck. His hands gripped at her tightly, possessively holding on to her as she shook, still riding the pleasurable wave that was the aftermath of her orgasm. Gently, he ran his hands through her silky soft hair, straightening it so that it cascaded down her back. His caresses were no longer stimulating, but were relaxing her, soothing her after the strain of their romp. He was holding her tightly, comfortingly as she relaxed against his chest, nuzzling the crown of her head with his cheek to give her an odd, yet definite sense of peace and belonging.

Her legs were splayed out on either side of him as she clung to his body possessively, trying to press every spare bit of flesh against his body to completely absorb the sense of security he was radiating. His hand cupped her rear, holding her firmly against him as he kissed her shoulder, and then her neck. She sighed as she melted into his embrace, the feeling of completion finally being accepted as something far more than simply superficial. She began to believe that he truly wanted her, not that he was taking advantage of her as psychological torture. While the sex was rough, she had the feeling that it was done purposely, as that was exactly what she had wanted. He had somehow known her preferences, and had done exactly what she had liked.

Still absorbed in the sensation of their bodies against each other, Harry pulled the blanket over them, conveniently forgetting the group of Death Eaters and Voldemort that was torturing his family downstairs. Thus, he was a bit startled when the door opened noisily a few minutes later.

Startled, he flung out Rudolphus' wand, uttering the first curse that came to mind.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The beam of green light buckled out of the wand, slightly underpowered because the wand did not suit him. The figure in the doorway dropped to the floor in surprise, barely evading the fatal curse as it passed by him by a simple few inches.

Shouting in panic, he rolled into the room, wand at the ready, to be greeted by the most shocking sight he had ever seen. Bellatrix Lestrange, the most feared and maniacal of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters was ostensibly naked under the covers, straddling Harry Potter's form as his arm circled her possessively.

Macnair whipped around in shock, only to find that his companion was on the ground, a blank expression in his eyes. Apparently, Rabastan Lestrange was not as lucky as him, having taken the curse straight to the heart, where a large chunk of flesh was missing from the middle of his ribcage. A few feet beyond the body of his comrade was a splash of blood against the wall, coating the hallway in gore. Apparently, despite the wand causing his curse to be underpowered, Harry's curse was strong enough to make a tangible physical effect rather than just knocking his victim stone dead. Unknown to Macnair, the line of Lestrange was permanently ended that night. Whipping around yet again, Macnair was met with a wand under his chin, poking into his jugular threateningly.

He chanced a look around, and found, to his utter horror, that Harry Potter was the one holding the wand, stark naked with a glint of insane malice in his emerald green eyes. He gulped nervously, and tried to surreptitiously bring his wand to bear.

It was a bad idea, as his attacker dug the wand deeper into his neck, whispering "Don't even think about it. Drop the wand, now." He complied, fear evident in his eyes. Harry moved away silkily, and waved his wand, causing Macnair's to float over to the bed, where Bellatrix pulled it out of the air.

Macnair gulped as he looked towards the bed, seeing the incredibly sexy Bellatrix reclining on the bed under the scant bedcovers in a sensual position, similar to those adopted by Muggles in their sex-magazines. Her voluptuous figure was covered in all the right parts, but it still left little to the imagination, and he felt the blood rushing lower down in his body.

Potter laughed cruelly as he saw the beginnings of the bulge in his pants, and Macnair was reminded with a start that he was being held at wand-point by a young, but incredibly powerful man. Ten minutes ago, Macnair wouldn't have given the situation a second thought before unhooking the axe from his belt and ramming it through the upstart lad's cranium. Now, however, after seeing the physical manifestation of the killing curse on his comrade, he had to bite back his reflex actions, loathe as he was to do it.

"Leave the room. Go down and tell your master that I shall join him in a minute. Inform him that I graciously ask for some time with my...relatives." He sneered the last word with such malice that Macnair shook, inwardly berating himself uselessly for quailing in front of the teenager. One last look into Harry's eyes quashed the last of his indignant train of thought, and he acquiesced to Potter's orders immediately, bowing his way out of the room.

Turning around, Harry looked at Bellatrix with undisguised lust in his eyes. She looked back with equal fervor, and leapt into his arms, crashing her lips down on his as she straddled him where he stood. He bit down on her lip, tugging gently, and growled "We need to get dressed. We can resume what we started later on, but rest assured...you will be mine."

She shivered at the intensity of his words, and kissed him hungrily one last time before she moved to don her clothes that lay strewn around the room. As she did, she pondered what the last half hour had brought to her. Her abusive bastard of a husband was dead, as was his incompetent brother. On many occasions, her husband had loaned her to his heterosexually-inclined brother, and he had mauled her in bed, roughly trying to dominate her with his tiny penis. Dangerous as she was with a wand, he was easily able to overcome her using physical means. Then, in one fell swoop, she was relieved of their oppression in one night, and Harry Potter, the erstwhile savior of the light, had bedded her in a truly delectable fashion, and had informed her rather than inquired that she would be his. He was like nothing she had expected, being far from the hateful brat that she had thought he would be. And, he had grown up rather well in the last few months, expanding on his previous slightly athletic body to look deliciously muscled. While she was still unsure as to why the hell she was actually going along with the ridiculously weird events of tonight, she somehow knew that he would make good on his words.

Across the room, Harry got dressed methodically, permanently transfiguring some of the disgusting hand-me-downs into appropriate clothing for the Lord of an Old Family. He donned the new black slacks and red silk shirt, slipping on white socks and wearing the newly transfigured boots. Since Transfiguration, unlike Conjuration, was permanent, he could wear these without the fear that they would suddenly turn back into their previous form. Lastly, he slipped on a midnight black robe, finding the symbolism amusing. By donning the robe to repay the kindness of his relatives, he was symbolically creating his image as a Wizard of Pure Blood, one with utter distaste for Muggles. A quick charm on his hair caused it to spike up slightly, and loose it's unruly, windswept look that usually had females swooning. It looked even better now, he mused, although it lacked the 'fuck-me' sensuality that his hair usually had.

Luckily, he had taken the time to brew the potion to repair eyesight, having owl-ordered the ingredients a few days before he left Hogwarts. After a few futile attempts, his work finally culminated with a perfect potion, and his eyesight was permanently restored over the course of a painful night. With the muscular form that he now bore from intensive daily workouts coupled with long runs on Dudley's old Treadmill, he filled the robes elegantly, looking powerful and attractive. His last action was to tap his Holly wand with Rudolphus', muttering a few words to make the wand glow gold. He had known of how to remove the tracking charm from his wand for two months, but was unable to find another wand to cast the necessary spell on his own...a rather irritating problem. The Order members on guard, surely, would have frowned upon such an action, being incredibly hypocritical as usual in their strict adherence to the law, despite the fact that they were an armed, and illegal, militia. One last look in the shattered mirror later, he turned around to find Bellatrix. She was looking at him with undisguised hunger in her eyes, raking his body with a lustful look. He returned her gaze equally, appreciating the way she filled her own robes, and wrapped an arm around her waist as he escorted her from the room and down the stairs.

Entering the living room, a cruel smirk crossed his face as he noticed the plight of his family. Looking around, he saw that there were only two Death Eaters left, Macnair and Nott. Voldemort, it seemed, had transfigured a couch into a throne, and was currently reposed on it elegantly, his red eyes examining Harry with interest.

"Well. Harry Potter. Macnair here has informed me of a certain request of yours? I find it hard to believe that you would ask such things."

"Lord Voldemort." Harry nodded his greeting. "I have been liberated of certain...cages. I believe you know what I speak of."

The red eyes widened as understanding dawned on the Dark Lord. In an almost friendly voice, the creature whispered "You were subjected to it as well?"

As of thirty seconds ago, the Dark Lord wanted nothing but to kill the whelp standing before him. The boy had proved to be a hindrance to his plans repeatedly, and the time for dilly-dallying was over. He had been thwarted twice since returning to life, and he would not let this chance escape. But now, this changed things. If Harry Potter had endured the same trials and constrictions that he had, then there was hope for him. Having a lieutenant as powerful as Potter could become was a definite advantage, one that he would try to cultivate. If things did not work out; he would slay the little bastard, prophecy or not.

The Dark Lord Voldemort did not bow before the words of a halfwit soothsayer.

Harry nodded in the affirmative, and said "Enough for now. I believe I have certain business to take care of, after which we shall converse. I assume you have a silencing charm in place? Or have you terminated the Order guard?" Voldemort nodded at the first question, an expectant smirk on his face as he motioned Harry towards his waiting family.

"Be careful," Harry said absently, stalking towards his relatives with an insane glint in his eyes. "The guard will be replaced in three hours."

Harry took a moment to examine them dispassionately. Vernon had a series of cuts all over his bare body, tears rolling down his face. A dagger was stuck into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall, and from what Harry could see, the dagger was exceptionally rusty. He smirked and turned to Dudley, who had been pinned to the wall in a grotesque representation of the Holy Cross that was mounted on the nearby shelf, large silver spikes jammed through his palms and feet, barely supporting the corpulent boy's weight. He had the word 'freak' carved into his forehead and chest. Both of them showed signs of the Cruciatus, shivering and shuddering as tremors rolled down their spines.

Then, Harry turned to Petunia. She was on her back, naked, and from the looks of things, she had just been raped by Nott, who had his pants around his ankles. Burn marks were evident on her arms, evidence of the use of the branding curse, and her ears had been cut off, leaking blood onto her hair.

Harry laughed viciously at them, and strode into the kitchen. He returned later bearing a curious assortment of things, none of which the Death Eaters knew any use for.

He motioned for Nott and Macnair to deal with the male Dursleys, muttering "No more marks. Only use the Cruciatus. Their lives are mine." Gulping, they looked to Voldemort for an answer, and he scowled at them irritatedly, nodding to agree with Harry's orders. Apparently, the Dark Lord was quite intent on seeing just how creative Harry could be.

Harry beckoned to Bellatrix, who approached him silently. Leaning in, he muttered "Take her up to my room." Bellatrix nodded, and floated the sobbing woman upstairs, taking special care to bang her on each step, a cruel smirk on her face. Turning to Voldemort, Harry said "Please excuse me for a few minutes."

Voldemort laughed cruelly and nodded as Harry walked away, knowing that his agreement or disagreement would not matter to the boy.

Harry strode up the stairs, slipping his robe off his shoulders. He entered the room, a cruel smirk on his face, and disrobed completely, piling his clothes on the table. Turning to Bellatrix, he said "I will need your aid in this, Bella. This disgusting whore of a woman cannot by any stretch of imagination excite me."

Bellatrix smirked, waving her wand to cause her clothes to vanish and reappear next to Harry's. He took the time to admire her, she was certainly beautiful, and with a body that voluptuous, she would look incredibly enticing for years to come. Petunia was on the bed, still sobbing, and looking at Harry with dread in her eyes. Harry laughed at her cruelly, snarling "Bitch, fifteen years ago you had a chance to make this night never happen."

Body quivering in pain, she gasped "Boy-Harry! Please, don't do this! Please! You don't want to do something like this, Harry. Please, let us go! My Dinky-Diddydums is in so much pain...my Vernon!"

A low chuckle emerged from his mouth, and she quailed as she found nothing but pure malice in his eyes. A haunting whisper emerged from his mouth as he smashed the direst hope that she now had.

"You dare to plead with me? You are a whore, Petunia, and you will get what is coming to you. You think you deserve mercy? You think your imbecile of a husband and your fat oaf of a son deserve mercy? A pox on your family, you disgusting trollop! All three of you will get exactly what is coming to you...take it from me, bitch, you will not like it one bit. I'll show you what a freak can do to you."

She made a move to scramble for the door, but a wave of Harry's wand sent her crashing back against the wall, causing her to slump limply on the bed, still bawling. A manic look of insanity in his eyes, he raised his wand again, and intoned "Crucio." The unforgivable struck her above the heart, and her mouth flung itself open as a scream of pure agony tore itself from her throat. After what seemed like hours under the curse, she found herself released, and resumed her bawling, now shaking and shivering like her husband and child were in the lower level of the house. Timidly, through her sobs, her eyelids cracked open to examine her surroundings, and she recoiled violently as she found him standing within a foot of her. His member was swaying after he walked over, and a look of horrific comprehension dawned on her face as she realized just what he intended to do. Through the haze of pain that had clouded her mind, she had not quite connected the dots, finding it odd rather than threatening that her nephew was standing before her divest of his clothes. She would undergo exactly what the freak downstairs had just done to her. Her attempts to scramble away from him resulted in a resounding backhanded slap that caused his fingernails to strike what remained of her ears, sending waves of agony through her body as blood streaked on her cheek.

She wept again as he moved towards her, straddling her with an evil glint in his eyes. His hands grabbed her breasts painfully, squeezing them roughly and twisting her nipples. She cried out in pain, making him laugh again. He kept kneading her breasts, squeezing hard and mashing them with his hands, interspersing his molestation of her body with forceful strikes to the face. Each movement she gave was rewarded with pain as he either struck her face or twisted her breasts, grasping the small globes of flesh tightly and viciously twisting the whole breast. He slapped her face once more, causing her to scream, and bent down.

Her nipples were the only feature on her body that was anywhere near attractive. She was a bony, frail woman with skin paler than a Vampire. Her skin seemed to be stretched across her bones, giving her the emaciated look of a convict at Azkaban. Roughly grasping her left breast in his hand, he took her nipple into his mouth. Despite herself, she groaned as his tongue teased her, but suddenly screamed ear-splittingly as he bit down hard enough to tear her nipple off entirely. Still screaming, she saw her nephew look at the blood that cascaded down her chest in awe...and a curious sense of longing. She flailed as he laughed at her, and painfully continued to mangle her breast. A woman's chest is one of the most sensitive parts of her body, and the pain she was receiving was incredible. A sick grin on his face, he parted his lips to show her something that made her scream in shock and horror. Her nipple, now parted from her body, was clenched between his front teeth, staining them red with blood. He spat it out, causing it to land in her hair near the blood that still poured from her ears. She was beginning to feel weak from the blood loss, and was unable to give much more than a whimper, despite the burgeoning effect of the pain emerging from various points on her body.

He smirked at her sobs, but scowled as he found that she did not arouse him enough for him to be hard. He looked towards Bellatrix, who was playing with herself on the bed next to them, and muttered "You will have to help me out here, Bella. She does nothing for me."

She grinned, crawling over so that she was poised on top of Petunia. Languidly, she took his limp member into her soft hand, stroking him gently. Lowering her head, she took him into her mouth, tantalizingly swirling her tongue around the head of his organ before running the tip all the way down his sizeable length. Finally, she took him in her mouth as far as she could before her gag reflex kicked in, and applied suction to it as she pulled her head up, coaxing his member into hardening. He quickly became rock hard in her hands, and through her sobs, Petunia gasped at his size, knowing that it would be painful, not to mention degrading.

He caressed Bella's cheek, saying "Thank you, Bella. That should do well." As Bellatrix moved away, pressing one last kiss to the tip of his penis, he turned to his Aunt with a manic look in his eyes, smirking at her pleading expression.

She opened her mouth and started "Harry ple-AAAAH!" He thrust into her roughly, pushing all the way in with one thunderous movement, stretching her incredibly tight pussy so painfully that she let out a blood-curdling shriek of pain. She had not, in her fear, become wet, so the penetration was rough and painful. He bit back a wince even as she screeched in pain, her organ being torn slightly as the large object violated her harshly.

Laughing cruelly, he began pounding at her, thrusting in with viciously painful strokes, each eliciting a scream of pain as he mauled her breasts. Bellatrix, feeling herself get wet and aroused at Harry's fervor, pointed her wand into Petunia's face and snarled "Do as I tell you, bitch, or you will die very painfully!" Petunia whimpered in pain, managing to nod, but was shocked as Bella straddled her face, pressing her sopping wet pussy against her lips.

Understanding what Bella wanted, and hoping for leniency, she nervously extended her tongue, probing Bellatrix's pussy with tentative strokes. At the moan of pleasure, she tried her best to do what was wanted of her, dearly hoping that she would be left alive. Bellatrix, hovering over her face, bent towards Harry, pressing kisses against his abdomen and chest as he pumped away at Petunia. With her right hand, she formed a tight ring around the base of Harry's cock, squeezing hard and increasing his pleasure considerably. Her left hand cupped his balls, massaging them to arouse him further, a fact that was obvious through his renewed pumping.

He was battering away at her, and vaguely noticed that his Aunt's pussy was bleeding. His hands had a rock-hard grip on her bony hips, causing bruises to appear on her sickly pale skin. Bellatrix was driving him crazy with her feather-light kisses and her dainty hands caressing him sensually, and he could feel his climax building up to release. Pulling out of Petunia completely, he paused, waiting for his arousal to slow down to a manageable level.

He motioned for Bellatrix to move off Petunia, and with a pout, she did. He moved to flip Petunia over, but she realized what he had in mind and tried to struggle. Incensed, he raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face, nearly dislodging a tooth. She let out a scream of pain, and whimpering, gave in to him, a small trickle of blood emerging from her split lip. He successfully flipped her over, and gazed dispassionately at the bony ass presented to him. Raising his hand, he let fly with a hard slap that crashed against her ass cheek. She screamed, and he saw the tinge of red appear. Satisfied, he spent the next several minutes spanking her viciously until her rump was red and raw, hot to the touch.

Roughly, he groped at her wet pussy, covering his hand in her juices. Trying to make the best of things, he smeared the lubricating fluid against her nether hole, pushing in slightly to make his passage easier. Then, without warning, he pressed his cock against her hole and slammed home, causing a bloodcurdling shriek from Petunia who was sobbing incoherently. She was even tighter this way, and he took complete advantage of it, pounding at her viciously to cause as much pain for her and pleasure for him as possible.

After a few painful minutes for Petunia, he could feel his orgasm approaching fast, and be pulled out of her roughly. She was whimpering pathetically, and he dragged her out of the bed with one hand, the other stroking his throbbing length. He pressed the tip of his penis to her lips, snarling "If you even think of using your teeth, I'll rip each of them out!"

Sobbing, she took his length into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down as Bella stroked him. She was standing behind him, pressed fully against his body, and her arm was circling his waist so she could grip his member and stroke it. With a groan of pleasure, he came, filling her mouth with semen. Petunia choked on the massive mouthfuls as she pulled away, spitting the second load out and causing it to splatter on her chin and chest. She looked pathetic, all three holes bleeding because of him, with her upper body covered in his spunk.

Still breathing hard, he turned around and grabbed Bella in his arms. She smirked at him, an action that he returned, and he asked "Do you want her? She can be your slave, to do all that you wish."

Sneering at the broken woman on the floor, she said "No. She is of no use to me. I would have nothing to do with this bony, ugly Muggle. Kill her, Master." The word 'Master' came unbidden from her mouth, and somehow, she knew it was true. In more ways than one, Harry would be her Master, and she, his servant.

He smirked at her and kissed her lips. "I have something to show you, Bella." She looked at him expectantly, and was shocked as his body began to change.

A pair of massive leathery wings grew out of his back seamlessly, emerging as if they were always meant to be there. His fingernails lengthened into claws that were impossibly sharp, and his musculature grew impossibly defined, rippling across his body tantalizingly. His eyes turned completely black, devoid of pupil, iris or sclera, and he opened his mouth in a sadistic grin, baring fangs that glistened in the light of the room.

However, the most incredible change was that he began to exude an aura. It was purely sexual, calling to her with an intense whisper promising pleasure beyond belief. He seemed ethereally beautiful to her, a deity of untold power who exuded an aura of sexuality that beckoned to her more powerfully than any Veela could hope for. If he had asked anything of her, she would agree immediately.

Then, it was gone just as sudden, and he stood there in front of her in his demonic form, but lacking the sensual aura that he was emitting a second ago. Clearing her head dazedly, she asked "Harry, what are you?"

He laughed cruelly, but it sounded incredibly sexy to her, a deep, musical voice that rolled into her ears and stimulated her.

"I am an Incubus, Bella. Or more accurately, I am a partial Incubus, which means I don't feel the random urge to impregnate sleeping women, and I can switch between my human and demonic appearances, using all my powers in both forms. You see, my Mother was a quarter Succubus, although her disgusting sister received none of this power. They were adopted when she was but a few months old, and her sister a year old by a muggle couple named Evans. The rest of my heritage is pureblooded, and you might say that my partial demonic ancestry makes it even more pure. Petunia here is a Squib, and so is her disgusting son. I must visit Gringotts to find out exactly which line I come from, for the letter that my mother left me did not mention it. Over the past two months, I learnt how to change into this form. Being a partial Incubus, I am what Veela would desire most...a creature of power, strength and sexuality, far superior in terms of magic and physical abilities than any Wizard, Vampire, Werewolf or Veela.

"I certainly hope that you will appreciate this...being an Incubus makes me rather energetic and insatiable in bed. Since the vast majority of my heritage is human, I keep my mind, but am still gifted with excessive virility...I daresay some would go so far as to call one such as me a machine."

She nodded, still slightly dazed, and blushed at his implications. Although he could completely turn the effect off, his voice still had a seductive quality to it that beckoned her to serve his every whim.

"Get dressed," he said, caressing her cheek gently, "I shall explain everything to you properly at a later time." She nodded, and quickly got dressed. Harry, in the meantime, was staring at Petunia in disgust.

He opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to, and closed it with an audible click. Petunia was staring at him in utter fear, shivering and whimpering uncontrollably.

Finally, Harry sneered at her, and with a vicious slash of his hand, literally tore her head off. He had not been exaggerating when he said that he was strong. With an explosion of blood that coated the floor and bed, her head rolled off and smashed against the wall, smearing it in the pulp that was once his aunt's brain. Anger visible on his face, he grabbed at her body before it fell to the ground, and rearing his hand back, he plunged it into her abdomen, ripping out organs, blood and tissue, effectively eviscerating her. Almost dismissively, he discarded the body upon the bed, making the headless corpse leak blood upon the ratty sheets.

Laughing harshly, he shook his hand vigorously, causing the blood that stained it to sprinkle all over the place. A second later, he was back in his human form, and he grinned at the sight in front of him. Blood was everywhere, covering the ground and bed indiscriminately. The tissue and brain matter that had exploded out of her head when it smashed against the wall added to the effect, increasing the bloodlust in his eyes. Throwing a hateful glare at Petunia's ravaged body, a small choking noise emerged from his throat before he hawked up a large gob of saliva and spat on her naked chest, adding to the splatters of semen that already streaked it.

He got dressed, allowing Bella to use cleaning charms on him to get rid of the blood, but this time decided not to wear the robe. He walked down the stairs again, his right hand gently resting on Bella's beautiful posterior. As they approached Voldemort, Harry squeezed once and lightly smacked her ass, indicating for her to amuse herself with the remnants of his family. Apparently the last thirty minutes had seen Vernon lose an arm, and Dudley to be physically mauled by bludgeoning curses. He laughed, and approached them slowly as the others backed off.

The Death Eaters looked at him guiltily, and Nott said "They began struggling and fighting. We had to subdue them through pain."

Vernon, through the haze of pain snarled "We sheltered you, boy! We fed and clothed you! How dare you do this to us?! I demand that you put us right and leave immediately!"

Harry flicked his trusty Holly wand, creating a plush chintz armchair out of nothing. Behind him, Voldemort laughed harshly as he saw Harry repeat the same trick that Dumbledore always did.

A throaty chuckle emerged from Harry's throat. "Fed me? Clothed me? Sheltered me? Of course you did," he said reasonably, before his voice took a turn into a decidedly evil tone.

"But it wasn't quite enough, was it Vernon? Oh no. You see, you had the chance to make this never happen, but you never took that chance, did you? No...I think it's time that I show you just who the real freak here is."

Vernon paled, which was quite an achievement, considering his current state of blood loss. Harry rose smoothly, and reached into the small pile of materials that he had gathered from the kitchen. His hand drew back, holding a tin of red chili powder, causing Vernon to blanch and try to withdraw shiftily. Of course, being pinned to the wall by being impaled through the shoulder meant that he didn't get far at all.

Almost conversationally, as he sprinkled generous amounts of the powder on Vernon's exposed wounds as the fat man screamed, Harry said "You see, when I'm done with you, you'll look like a freak. But wait! The pictures that they take of you will be rather gruesome, but I'm sure you filthy Muggles will call it either torture, or abstract art. How will it be art, you ask? Because, you see, I will certainly be creative with the next hour."

Methodically, over the next hour, Harry tortured Vernon magically and physically, also using legilimency to stimulate pain within him. Always, he left Vernon mere inches from insanity, not willing to allow him that bliss. Then, he proceeded to laugh harshly as he told Vernon how he had raped his wife, enthusiastically describing her tightness and how he had fired his load into her mouth and all over her chest. The tears of pain and grief running down his face made him laugh harder as he described how Petunia's life had ended, with her blood staining the walls and every attainable hole violated and bleeding. Voldemort laughed harshly the whole time, enjoying what he thought to be the result of his ceaseless endeavors towards the perversion of the Golden Boy.

To add insult to injury, Harry grinned and waved his wand, muttering "Accio Petunia." The violated carcass of his Aunt flew down the stairs and deposited itself in front of them. Vernon let out a long wail of grief as he saw his wife's mutilated body piled in front of him like a destroyed dummy. She had been cut to shreds, head missing and abdomen torn apart. As his grief-stricken eyes traveled over her, he screamed as he realized that the boy had not been joking; large puddles of semen covered her chest and the lower part of her chin, suggesting that his wife had actually fellated the boy. Eyes holding a defeated light, he looked up at Harry.

The last thing he saw was malicious green eyes boring into his own as a blue beam of light hit him squarely in the face. The force of the spell was enough to cause his body to flop off the wall and fall head-first into the puddle of blood and guts that was his late wife.

After Vernon died when Harry used an overpowered bludgeoning curse to crush his skull, Harry moved on to Dudley. He tortured Dudley similarly, but put a special emphasis on physical torture, using his fists to beat him to a pulp. Almost happily, it seemed, Harry dragged Dudley's pants down with some difficulty. Sneering at the boy, he raised his leg and brought down his heavy boot on the boy's miniature manhood, mangling it and literally crushing his testicles. As the boy screamed and cried, Harry laughed. Through the whole time, he made sure that Voldemort and his henchmen had no idea that he was an Incubus, or that he had any nonhuman heritage. Bellatrix noticed this immediately and similarly said nothing, knowing that Harry had purposely described his attack on Petunia as being accomplished by using magic rather than physical strength.

When at last, Dudley died, Harry's smirk finally faded away. He rose, shaking his hands to remove the blood from them, and used cleaning spells to remove whatever he couldn't. He donned his robe again and stood. He beckoned to Bellatrix, who immediately came over to him and stood behind him. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at this uncharacteristic show of obedience from one of his followers.

Harry then said "This conversation must be between only the two of us, although Bellatrix must remain." Voldemort nodded, and waved to his followers, telling them to leave. They moved to the door, passed the wards, and apparated away. Of course, before they did so, one of them tripped, waking Hestia Jones up. She tried to fire a stunner, but a flash of green light prematurely ended her life.

Harry sank down into the armchair that he had conjured with a sigh, Bellatrix taking a seat on the armrest where she held his right hand in hers.

"I was able to free myself from the potions and curses after your attempt at possessing me. They were weakened by your strength, and I was able to detect them and dismantle them. Since they were apparently tied to nothing, Dumbledore doesn't know of their failure."

Voldemort nodded pensively. "How did he place them on you?" he asked, a curious note in his voice.

"When I was first rescued by Hagrid, he gave me a birthday cake. Apparently, it seems, on the night that Dumbledore left me here, he took a sample of my blood. He used some sort of potion in the cake, probably the Memoria Imperio Potion. All that I gather from it is that it was tied to me through my blood, which is why it affected only me despite others eating the cake, and that he used Pensieve memories to implant his intent into my mind. He also put behavioral spells that restricted my movement and made me more susceptible to his ideals and commands."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair, tapping his chin with an abnormally long finger. "What do you intend to do now? I will not try to hide the fact that I would be interested in having you work with me, not as a servant, but not an equal."

Harry looked at him seriously and said "I want Bellatrix. In exchange, I will tell you the prophecy, as long as you remove her mark and all magical attachments to you. I want her to be completely mine."

Voldemort laughed. "Very well." Bellatrix nervously extended her arm, and Voldemort began chanting in an arcane language, throwing in some Parseltongue in the middle. Painlessly, it seemed, the mark slowly dissolved into nothingness, and Bellatrix felt the last vestiges of the link disappear. She nodded to Harry, who stared at her arm fixatedly for a few seconds. Blinking, he nodded, satisfied that the aura of darkness that was not exuding from Bella herself was gone.

Voldemort looked at him curiously and said "You can see magic?" Harry nodded, replying "It is a minor gift, but I can see magic even at its lowest possible strength. I cannot manipulate it."

The Dark Lord nodded, and looked at Harry expectantly.

"The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies, born to those that have thrice defied him. The Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but he shall have the power the Dark Lord knows not. The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches."

He purposely lied, not wanting to let Voldemort know the last, crucial bit of the Prophecy.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow after a few seconds of thought. "What is this power that I do not know?"

Harry shrugged. "It might be the fact that I see magic. Maybe the gift will grow in strength."

"But I know of it now. Would that affect the prophecy?"

"I think not. I'm pretty sure the line means that I have a power that you don't, not that you might have it, but don't know about it." Voldemort nodded pensively.

"What now? Will you fight me? The Prophecy does not seem to give me a chance, but as it has always been, I work against the will of magic. You seem to have potential, Potter, so I am willing to hold off our fight in hopes of a negotiation between us."

"Truthfully? I'm bored. I can't be bothered to fight you now, I'd much rather piss about for a while. I'm sure that at some point we'll come to loggerheads, but I'm seriously not in the mood right now. As we are fated to fight, we will, but there is no reason that it should be done right now. What negotiations do you refer to?" True to his word, Harry was lazily reposed on the comfy chair.

"You are made of the same mould that I am, Potter. You are powerful, apparently an equal to me. I, however, am privy to a lot more knowledge than you are, and I could teach you this knowledge if you join me. I am not bold enough to think you naïve, so I will not lie to you. I am not interested in an equal. There can only ever be one Dark Lord. You, however, cannot be my servant. It would be an insult to my honor and yours to make one gifted with equal power a servant. You would be my apprentice, my second-in command. Despite my wish for immortality, there is no way for me to feasibly reach it. To do so through the only way I know would be to sacrifice something that I cannot give up: my magic. Thus, I would groom you as an heir to continue the Empire that I shall build. I will hold off our confrontation until you make a final decision. Be warned: I will expect an oath of loyalty, be it in public or not. However, I called them negotiations for a reason. You are my equal, so you deserve a full say in the final terms of our agreement, if one takes place."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked at Voldemort. "I shall think on it. At the moment, I have enjoyed a rather trying few hours, and I look forward to going to sleep.

Voldemort nodded. "True...you must have expended a rather large amount of magic, considering what you did to two of my Death Eaters and your disgusting family. I will excuse what you did to the Lestrange brothers, their magic was diminished by Azkaban, and their skills were worse than rusty. Very well, I shall make my leave now. However, do not expect me to be lenient the next time we meet, Potter. The prophecy seems to say that you will win, but it does not say it outright. I still am capable of harming you."

He rose, and withdrew his wand to apparate.

"Wait. I don't want to fall back into Dumbledore's hands either. How about you 'capture' me? I'd rather appreciate a chance to have some fun with Wormtail, and perhaps go on a revel or two. After all, I have to have some fun." Harry spoke with a hint of malice in his voice.

"Hmm? Interesting proposal, Potter, but how will you go about making it look realistic? I admit I have no real need for him; the rat served his purpose a year ago. A revel? It seems those dreams have revealed more than what was permissible. I shall have to look into terminating this link, it is most inconvenient. If you wish to go on one, then I find that an encouraging sign, what with the negotiations I mentioned."

Harry grinned. He stood up, moving towards a less soiled part of the floor. Withdrawing a kitchen knife from the pile of things that he had hastily overlooked in favor of physical torture, he took a breath and stabbed himself through the palm, causing blood to drip to the floor. Through gritted teeth, he breathed as he waited until a small puddle had formed on the floor.

Finally, he pulled out the blade and cast a healing charm on himself, gasping with pain as the wound knitted together again. Waving his wand, he cast an enlargement charm on the puddle of blood, causing it to grow into a rather large puddle. Then, with a few spells, he splashed some blood across the wall and the floor, making it look like he was tortured quite painfully.

With abandon, he fired a few Cruciatus curses around, hitting the blood with them to show signs of magically caused trauma in his blood. He grinned as he saw the carnage, and turned back around. He was met with an almost approving nod from Voldemort, who waved his wand over one of Vernon's fingers, turning it into a portkey.

Harry spent a minute getting his things into his trunk, and picking up his broom. Before he left the room, a sadistic grin crossed his face as he snapped Hedwig's wings, and then twisted her neck to terminate her life. An owl was the least of his concerns, and Dumbledore's tracking charms on her were far from conducive to his plans. One last look around, and they left, collapsing the wards on their way out. One of the Death Eaters had had the foresight to cast the Dark Mark into the sky above Privet Drive, so it was guaranteed that the Order would emerge shortly.

As they reappeared in an opulently furnished mansion, Harry smirked at the dumbstruck look on the face of the Death Eater who was standing guard by the door.

"Show Mr. Potter to one of the guest rooms!" Voldemort snapped, causing the stupefied Death Eater to jump to attention. The man pulled his wand out threateningly, causing Voldemort to snarl "Crucio. I did not mean the dungeons, you imbecile. Show him to a guest room!"

Shaking, he quickly followed commands, knowing that it would be stupid of him to dilly-dally.

A few minutes later found Harry entering a large room with a comfortable bed and a crackling fireplace to quell the slight chill in the dusky air of the Manor. Waving his hand dismissively, he ushered the Death Eater out, and cast a few privacy wards on the door. Turning around, he grinned laconically at Bellatrix, his expression quite suggestively to the point.

"Well, Bella, whatever shall we do now?" he whispered, stalking towards her.

With cat-like grace, he circled her, eyes roving over her body with lust glinting in them. He circled around to her front and cupped her breasts, weighing them in his hands as his thumbs flicked over her nipples. She was breathing hard and fast as she threw her head back, hands clutching at his upper arms. Slowly, he divested her of her clothing, nipping at her skin with his teeth. He removed her bra with feather light movements, and buried his face into her cleavage, massaging the large breasts in his hands as he sucked on the skin in the valley between them.

When his lips finally found her mouth, the ensuing kiss was passionate, yet slow. Her arms were around his neck, holding him against her, and his right hand held the back of her head while his left rested on her hip. Her mouth tasted spicy, like good rum. She was a phenomenal kisser, not sucking away at his mouth but caressing it lovingly. He moaned into her mouth as she cupped him, squeezing gently, and he gripped onto her tighter, pressing her hard against his body. They parted, breathing heavily with lustful glints in their eyes.

He grabbed her, throwing her bodily onto the bed and clambering on top where he resumed his ravaging of her mouth as he massaged her breast with one hand, the other propping his body up. She moaned as her lips dislodged from his and bit down on his neck to stifle the scream as he pushed a finger into her. Suddenly, he was standing a few feet away from her, causing her to scowl through the haze of pleasure at the lack of skin contact.

An absent wave of his hand caused his clothes to vanish, and he beckoned her to him, smirking. Instead of going to him, she smirked right back and beckoned him over, her other hand massaging her pussy. A slight grin on his face, he walked over, and she pushed him onto the bed in a sitting position. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, she reverently took his hardness into her hands, scrutinizing it closely.

The expression of reverence and worship on her face was an aphrodisiac for him as his member throbbed insistently in her hands, straining against the soft flesh that held him. Her eyes were wide as his cock pulsated, as she had apparently noticed that even while she held him with both hands, a large part of his cock still extended out of her grip.

She gave a tentative lick, feeling slightly awkward now that the sexual atmosphere from earlier was gone, taking her sudden sense of liberation with it. At his responding groan, her tongue darted out again, sweeping the few leaking drops of pre-cum away. Slowly, she stroked him, taking the head of his cock into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. Her movements were slow, tantalizingly arousing him as she teasingly touched and licked him. Minutes passed as neither showed any signs of tiring with the slow pace of their actions. Finally, Harry gave up just as she traced her tongue slowly from the base of his penis to the crown, and he grabbed her shoulders, hauling her into the air.

Her surprised squeak was muffled by his lips as he kissed her, tongue roving around in her mouth gently. He laid her down on her back, and she prepared to be penetrated, but was shocked as he straddled her stomach instead.

With a glint of insane passion in his eyes, he said "I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart." His hands gripped her large breasts, squeezing slightly, and he maneuvered his body such that his cock was flat against her chest, nestled in the valley between her breasts. He pushed her breasts together, causing them to clench around his member, allowing her to feel the slick sensation of her saliva on it. She leaned her head up, propping a pillow under her head, and looked down at her breasts where she could see the head of his cock protruding out from between them.

Rocking back and forth, he began thrusting, using her breasts to stimulate him. With each thrust, his cock pushed all the way up to her lips and then back again. After her initial shock at the position faded away, she quickly became excited again, and as his cock moved up towards her face again, she pressed a kiss to the head, causing him to shudder in ecstasy. She opened her mouth, and with each new thrust, took him in and lathered it with her tongue, tickling and arousing him. After minutes of rutting away between her generous breasts, his arousal had become incredibly heightened, and with a short moan of pleasure at her last lick, he rose on his haunches, stroking his member rapidly. Rather than rise up to meet his explosion, she closed her eyes, a slight smile on her lips, and stroked his thighs. With a cry of passion, he came, splattering his seed on her face and breasts, having to steady himself with one arm as his body heaved.

Her eyes opened again, her smile growing into a grin as she saw him poised above her, panting deeply. With a finger, she scooped up some of the spunk on her chest and licked it away, moaning slightly at the taste. He waved a hand, and she watched in absolute shock as he used wandless magic to clean his cum off her. Moving off, he laid down on the bed next to her, turning on his side to look her in the eye. She leaned into his touch as he caressed her cheek, shivering at the intensity of his eyes.

A look of desperation entered her eyes as she whispered "Make me come, please." Smirking, he pulled her on top of him so that she was straddling his hips, cunt rubbing against his deflated member. She moved to stroke him to hardness, but was stopped by Harry, who licked her earlobe, whispering "Not so fast, sweetheart. I told you that you would be mine, and so I shall make you mine."

Again, his body changed as his eyes turned black, and his body suddenly rippled with muscles. This time, however, the wings did not appear. The blanketing aura of sexuality emerged again, seeping into her mind with all the subtlety of a rampaging Hippogriff. A low keen escaped her lips, turning into a sigh of pleasure as she melted into his embrace, leaning her head against his chest. Gently, he repositioned her head so that it lay angled on his chest, presenting her neck to his lips.

Arms wrapped around her midriff, he lowered his head to her neck, kissing the creamy skin experimentally. She sighed again, shifting in his arms elatedly. Her arousal was more than evident, as he felt her dripping cunt slowly shower his crotch in a slightly viscous fluid, the intoxicating scent of her sex permeating the air around them like a thick cloak of pleasure. He lathered her neck with wet kisses, sucking and tugging at her skin gently, and feeling her muscles relax entirely against him.

Then, without warning, he smirked behind her head, and gently bit down on her neck with glistening white fangs, breaking the skin. A yowl of pain tore itself from her throat, but that was all the movement she was able to accomplish, as the grip that he had on her body and head prevented her from moving.

Through the haze of uncertainty that suddenly veiled her mind, a deep sorrow filled her soul. She had been used...she was no more than a toy for him. He had used her ruthlessly, playing on her insecurities to crumble her shield in one quick blow. He had her under the impression that he truly felt something for her, that he truly wanted her as much as she wanted him. But, she reflected, preparing to embrace death, it was all for naught...the great Bellatrix Black, scourge of the Magical World was about to die at the hands of a barely pubescent teenager, naked and used consensually. He had tasted of her flesh, taken the last shreds of her innocence with admirable gusto. He had done for her what no man had done before...he had treated her like a woman, he had promised her a great future. But some wounds ran too deep, she reflected, for the murder of his Godfather had obviously changed him, turning him into the calculating, manipulative man that now held her naked body to his.

She was not naïve, she had known that she would eventually die, and had imagined a glorious ending, dying in a hailstorm of curses as she single-handedly routed a battalion of Aurors to aid her lord and master. She had not envisioned anything like this...to die having had her allegiances taken away, her mark gone. Death would come, she felt, as it would to a galleon-whore in Knocturn Alley, covered in the juices of her endeavors as her blood joined the fatal recipe.

She was wrong.

As she prepared to die, the orgasm struck her. It was as if an entire beating was compressed into a microsecond, except that she felt immeasurable pleasure rather than pain. A scream, primal and earthy, tore itself from the depths of her soul as she felt every nerve in her body become hyper-stimulated by never ending pleasure. If she was wet before, she was practically dripping now, a flood of musky fluid emerging from deep within her loins to coat her lover's manhood in her scent. Tears leaked from her eyes, not from pain or sorrow but from the incredible pleasure that she was being subjected to. She rode the crest of her orgasm for what seemed like days, being unable to form a single coherent thought in her mind. When, at long last, the pleasure began diminishing, she could only compare the experience to one thing: enduring the Cruciatus for minutes at a time, but having the entire experience condensed into a single second of pleasure rather than agony.

Below her, Harry had bit down into her neck, releasing a toxin through his fangs. The Demonic toxin was native only to Incubi...the fluid that resided in small venom sacs near the vampire-like fangs in the demon's mouth. It was this fluid that the Incubus used to mark its mates, forever binding it into a bond of love, passion and slavery. She was now truly his, and could and would never belong to another. As he had told her, he would make her his, and this last orgasm, the effect of the toxin, bound her to his will like slave to master. She was his alpha...the leader of his bonded. She was the first, his lieutenant, so to speak of the collection of women that would form his pack. In the ranks, her authority was just under his, and so it would remain forever.

The blood that released from her neck, the precious lifeblood that seeped from her veins now entered his mouth, and as ecstasy rolled through his body, he swallowed. An aura of magic as black as their hearts unfurled around them, a dark nimbus of light reflecting the soul of the Master and that of his slave.

Gently, he extracted his fangs from her neck, gingerly lapping up the lifeblood that trickled slowly from the four identical punctures in her throat. As his tongue flicked over the wounds, they closed seamlessly, leaving naught but a few trickles of blood diluted in his saliva.

She was panting, slowly coming off her high. His hand gently caressed the side of her head, stroking the line where the creamy smoothness of her skin morphed into the silky softness of her hair. Slowly, her head rose, and she looked deep into his eyes with bloodshot, unfocused ones of her own. Trembling, as her eyes lost their vacant look, her eyelids closed, allowing a tear to be squeezed out of her left eye.

Entranced, he watched as it rolled down her cheek, a trail of glistening moisture left in its wake. Tenderly, he cupped her cheek in his palm, relishing the contact of his slightly calloused palm against the soft, malleable flesh of her cheek. He leaned his head up ever so slightly, and brushed his nose against hers before he claimed her lips in a gentle kiss, evoking feelings within her that she thought were lost. She finally pulled away from him, a slow movement that looked beautiful to him. With her eyes closed, the spark of malice in them now veiled, she looked as innocent and delicate as a nun.

Slowly, violet eyes opened again, the currently suppressed glint of insanity still evident as the simple action changed her from innocent to crazed. Tenderly, she cupped his cheeks in her hands, softly caressing his face, and whispered forlornly "I'm so sorry. I thought the worst of you for a moment there."

His thumb gently touched her lips as he continued watching her, eyes filled with undisguised desire and amazement. She fell silent, not knowing what more she could say.

At long length, his amazed exploration of her face ceased, and he blinked away the sudden look of ambiguous longing in his eyes. "Don't apologize, Bella. It was understandable."

She nodded demurely, eyes looking anywhere but into the expressive pools that were his eyes. At some time during the bonding, he had slipped back into his human form, and now emerald eyes stared into hers with emotions blaring from their cores.

"What- what was that?" she whispered, still caressing his cheeks.

A slow smile spread on his face. "You are mine now. You are my Alpha, you will be the leader of my women. You are my first...you are the one who can never be replaced, never be lost. I am now yours as much as you are mine."

She swallowed down the emotion that threatened to rise explosively from deep within her. "Thank you, Master," she smiled, the word rolling off her tongue with much greater ease than before.

She moved to pleasure him again, but her body swayed dizzily, and she nearly fell off the bed.

"Sleep," he whispered, holding her limp body against his. "The bonding is always hard on your magic."

Sighing, she melted into his embrace, burying her head into the crook of his neck. Slowly, her breath evened, and she fell asleep quickly. He joined her soon, the calming sensation of her breath playing across his skin lulling him to sleep.