What Lucius Wants

A/N: Much to my surprise this has turned into a chapter fic. Once again dedicated to my generous reviewers. Enjoy.

~o0o~

My master so far is unaware of the extent of my magic. He knows I can do magic, and he knows I don’t have a wand, but I’ve gently placed the thought in his aristocratic cranium that all of the magic he’s seen is instinctive, situational magic, and that I know very little else. I allow him to think that I am just very in tune with his needs, very empathetic, and not an uber-controlling manipulative mind-reader. I utterly believe that the reason why my master and I work so well together is that we are both control sluts who seek out power over others like most people seek money or fame. I completely get off on subtly manipulating my master to my own rather perverse ends, without him ever knowing it – it just happily works out that my master and I both like achieving the same ends… several times a day usually.

The reason no one will ever know is that I seriously have more power than anyone I’ve met yet. I can sense magical power and no one comes close to my level. While there are some minds who are more closed off and protected, there is ultimately no one I can’t read and no one I can’t put thoughts and suggestions into their heads – all undetected. Damn, I’m good.

Who was it who said absolute power corrupts absolutely. Were they ever right.

Gods I’m getting hard just thinking about it…

Where was I? Oh, yeah…

My master doesn’t know. Well, he did for a moment or two know the full and impressive scope of my powers, but I erased it from his mind. Yep. Being around so many magic users and reading more magical minds (ok, so I usually only make eye contact with someone right before I get fucked, but it still gives me more info to work with) I have learned of more uses for my magic, and the Obliviate spell is dead useful. I had to use it on my elegant and beautiful master one afternoon after I sorta fried the brain of the sick fuck who dared to abuse my master.

Oops.

Some sadistic asshole named Volda-something or other, who for some utterly unclear reason my master was pandering to, was using MY master as HIS sex slave, and had my master naked and crawling to him and sucking him off while he sat with his robes open in my master’s chair, while I watched from my place on the floor beside my master’s chair. And ok, while my master naked and in a previously unimaginable submissive role was hot, very hot – let’s face it, any time my master is naked it’s hot – I could tell that unlike what my master and I do, my master wasn’t enjoying it: some people are just not meant to be subs.

Hey being a sub is not easy – you have to be willing to surrender your body, mind and entire demeanor to another’s will, and you have to do it unquestioningly and you have to do it completely. It’s the most absolutely generous you can be with your entire body and it’s slightly terrifying and fabulously exhilarating. No, it’s not easy but fuck is it worth it.

But back to Volda-fuck. Now I know you’re thinking ‘but that’s exactly what your master does to you,’ but it isn’t the same thing at all. My master and I have never discussed it, but we both enjoy the power of sex (ok, from vastly different perspectives). But we both get turned on from my submission, we both get turned on from fucking with people both physically and mentally. We both enjoy what others think of as sick and twisted and just plain wrong.

But my master wasn’t enjoying this, and this sicko with a deathwish who was using him was doing it because he could, but it just wasn’t the same. I don’t know how to explain it, except that what we do feels ‘right’ and what this soon-to-be-troll-chow piece of scum was doing felt wrong. Vastly wrong.

The whole time this sick obviously suicidal fuck was describing to me what he was doing to my master and how hot it was that my master had to bow down and suck him off (and his ‘bedroom’ voice was anything but sexy, believe me) I was getting more repulsed and angrier. And his dirty talk had nothing on my master’s. I had started to protest, but my master had silently forbade me to interfere, even as this demented death-seeking dickwad had him bend over the arm of his own chair and proceeded to fuck my master with absolutely no finesse or skill. Fortunately I cast my Wet-n-Ready spell at my master’s ass, as Mr. My-Minutes-Are-Numbered hadn’t prepped him at all. All the time I was sitting there, I was getting angrier and angrier: this twisted fucking corpse-to-be had the nerve to hurt my master – and I could tell it hurt. I met my master’s eyes as his head was bent down over the side of the chair: my master was letting himself be used by this dead man fucking because he was afraid of the power this overconfident under-endowed, soon-to-be-annihilated jackass had over him.

Well, no more! No one has power over my master but me! The anger coiled in my gut and built until it just exploded from my chained hands and hit this Voldawart guy in the head, knocking him backwards off my master’s chair and pulled him totally out of my master’s ass. I let the dark energy just pour into him for at least a minute, and then just let up. Well Mr. Slimy Sick Fuck just fell to the ground, gibbering like an idiot. He wasn’t dead (and really I might still rectify that tiny oversight) but he wasn’t ever going to coerce my master or anyone ever again.

My master looked at me in awe and horror.

I was kind of in awe and horrified too – I mean I’ve known for a while that no one seems to have the same level of power as I do (they all need a wand, and don’t seem to be able to make up spells to suit themselves), but to see it in action was incredible. And terrifying.

It was the look of transfixed horror on my master’s usually coolly disdainful face that I couldn’t’ stand, so I erased that moment from his mind and put in a thought that he must have somehow melted the madman’s twisted grey matter himself, from an instinctual burst of sheer accidental magic. Ok, accidental magic is unheard of in trained adults, and yes my master has never displayed any level of power near the amount I just used. And no one in their right minds would give credence to such a lame-ass idea. But who said anything about people being alone in their minds? Being an incredibly skilled Occlumens is damn convenient sometimes. I cemented the thought of my master melting the mind of the madman in a fit of pure undiluted rage in the mind of everyone who questioned my master about it in my presence.

And since I am very nearly always present…

The reduction of the misguided moron who thought he could be my master’s master proved to be very beneficial to my master, as everyone was eerily ready to believe that he had done something to Mr. Now-I-Wet-Myself-If-Someone-So-Much-As-Looks-At-Me himself (who my master has locked away in a true dungeon and who my master every once in a while Crucios just for fun) (sometimes my master just looms in the drooling halfwit’s presence who pisses himself in fear – hence his new nickname), and that my master is now incredibly powerful and not to be messed with. Works for me. As far as I’m concerned, as long as I serve my master he will be a force to be reckoned with.

And being seen as the most powerful wizard of his time has made my master happy. Very happy. Ecstatic even. Which has had wonderful consequences for me.

These past two days I’ve spent the whole time getting fucked, pounded into, cum upon, and just gloriously used by my master and five of his new followers. I was in leather supports and chains all weekend, and I was bent and twisted into many different pleasure-giving contortions. At one point I was filled from both ends and had my fists in two different asses all at once while one man jerked himself off and came on my face, while the last man repeatedly pushed the pointed tip of the Malfoy Diamond into my cock slit – Gods the utter submission of it all makes my heart pound and my cock stiffen just thinking about it. Ok yes, there was some pain (really an asshole isn’t meant to take more than one cock at a time)(although the exquisite sensation from feeling so absolutely filled was wonderful), but knowing that my master was getting seriously horny and turned on always makes me seriously horny and turned on. The appreciable pain was totally overshadowed by the delicious thrill of raw sexual power. Fuck, I’m shaking just remembering those raunchy, sweaty, lust-filled days.

But as horny as being so wanton and used generally makes me, as much as I love doing things that turn my master on, it’s not the group sex and gang bangs that give my life the most joy; it is the times when it is just my master and myself and maybe one other person (have I mentioned that my master really, really likes filling me from both ends?) that I treasure.

After the sexual onslaught, he led me on leash, with me crawling behind him (thank Merlin for the sticking spell on my stilettos), wearing the remains of a sheer black dress that barely covered anything even when it wasn’t torn and cum-stained, to his bedroom where tonight’s third party stood waiting silently: a tall, bald, beautiful black man, with a body a body-builder would sell his soul for and who was just smoldering with sex just standing there. Naked. And his cock… Ohmigawd that was going to hurt going in, but I’d feel full for days afterwards. Oh Gods. I was shaking in both fear and anticipation.

My master had me stand up, and even with the three-inch heels (I save the four-inch heels for our public outings) I was still dwarfed by these two men. Our sexy third was even taller than my master: in my heels I come up to master’s chin; I barely reached the top of this man’s shoulders. I gazed coyly upwards and met his deep brown eyes and read what he wanted from this evening.

Gods. He wanted a struggle. He wanted to taste my fear as he took me. He wanted me to quiver and cower as he filled my sweet ass. He wanted me begging and crying as he fucked me up against the nearest table or wall. I could read that he’d never do this outside of this room, that’d he’d never actually be a rapist, but that the thrill of this scenario, the possibilities of fulfilling this particular fantasy, the deliciousness of the absolute power of a ruthless attacker over his terrorized prey, had him quivering himself, and his cock was rock hard as it jutted proudly out from his body.

I started to shiver more obviously. I allowed a look of fear to widen my suddenly tearing emerald eyes. I started to look to my master as if to step away from this beautiful, powerful man looming over me. I jumped in very nearly real fear as my master stepped away from me, and as our guest stepped into my personal space. I allowed my voice to quaver as I deliberately disobeyed, and started to question my master.

“M-m-m-master? W-w-w-ha..?”

“Quiet, my angel.” My master’s voice is deadly when low and angry. But my hesitant query had had its desired effect. Chains now appeared and magically attached my wrists together, leaving only a short length of play, and my ankles were similarly hobbled, but with more room on the heavy iron chain. There would now be an element of punishment, an element of pain that I could read in our guest’s mind would really turn the larger man on, whether he administered it or my master did.

I started to further disobey by taking a step backwards when our guest spoke, stopping me in my tracks.

“Are you frightened, little slut? Are you afraid of what I’m going to do to you, little whore? Do you think running away is going to save you, filthy little cunt? Do you think your master will save you? Maybe you should run, little girl. Run, you stupid little cunt. Run before I grab your sweet body and fuck you to pieces.”

Ohmigawd… his voice. Think James Earl Jones, but somehow impossibly sexier. My diamond bound cock gave a valiant twitch of interest as the rest of me stepped back, the heavy chains dragging on the floor as I moved, putting a leather high-back chair between the two of us. As he started to approach me, I stumbled across the room, falling when the chains tangled, desperately crawling and then hobbling to the connecting door to the S&M room. I yanked on the handle, my chained wrists clanking against the metal of the door handle. I was shaking in both real fear and almost overpowering anticipation as I discovered the door was locked. I threw a desperate look over my bare shoulder (the much-torn see-through dress having slipped off one shoulder due to having been almost entirely torn from my body earlier this evening) and quailed in fear as he approached. I tried the door again, and this time it opened under my quaking fingers.

My master’s raunchy, kinky sex room has a variety of leather furniture that one can be chained to, strung up from or bent over. Mirrors everywhere to enhance the view from any angle. It has wooden pegs attached to the walls at various angles that one can be (and has been) sat upon. There are many iron pegs and rings along the walls at different heights for chains to be attached to or looped over. There are whips, and paddles and dildos and anal beads and toys of various descriptions.

I ran towards the leather horse that I’m often bent over and tripped as the chains caught on something on the floor. I scrambled upwards and made it behind the horse where I stopped, panting in fear, waiting to see where my sexy stalker was. He came confidently striding into the room, and I allowed him to take in the vision of my shaking, cowering self for a moment before I broke away to stumble behind the large x-shaped cross that has various loops and chains attached to it. I ran as best I could, while nervously looking over my shoulder, allowing myself to crash into obstacles. I was crying in earnest now (in desperate anticipation, but it looked like fear to my would-be rapist). I was slowly, deliberately backing my self into a corner, all the while looking scared and fearful.

I tripped on my ankle chains again, but managed to catch myself on my hands and knees and scrambled/crawled away from the menacing, utterly looming predator steadily drawing closer to my barely covered body. I crawled past the four-poster bed and wedged myself into the corner of the room, trembling in fear and overwhelming anticipation.

I sensed and saw the thrill of victory as my pursuer realized I was backed into a corner (I saw this via the many mirrors in the room). I shrunk down on myself, with my shaking manacled arms drawn over my head as if to ward off a blow, as my dark, sexy predator, approached, his powerful, taut body looming menacingly over me.

I started to call for my master, who had leisurely followed us into the room, slowly stroking his hard cock as it poked out of his dark robes.

“Mas…” But our hot horny hunter cut me off.

“Your master won’t save you, little bitch. Nothing will save you, you disobedient cunt. You need to be taught a lesson, little whore. But first…”

Oh Gods, oh sweet fucking Merlin. He picked me up, turned me to the wall, and while holding me against the wall with one thick hand, he looped my chained wrists over one of the iron pegs and let me dangle against the wall, my feet no longer touching the ground. I started to plead with him not to do it (liar), started begging for him to leave me alone (not), began crying to my master to save me.

My hugely hung sexual predator was totally turned on. I could tell by the almost sobbing-with-need picture he made in the mirrors. I could tell by the way his voice was going hoarse, repeating: “you’re going to get it now, little whore” over and over again. And I could tell by the heavy cock suddenly rammed into my ass with no preparation at all. Thank Merlin for my Wet-and-Ready spell, as this fast fucking was not the first time someone had taken me with no prep. Even so, if I hadn’t been thoroughly used earlier that day, I might have died from the pain. As it was I screamed in real pain as that massive prick speared me in two.

Oh gods. Hurtshurtshurtshurtshurts… Fuck! He was thrusting in me, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his heavy cock lifting me with each thrust and rubbing my utterly hard prick, still weighted down by the Malfoy Diamond, against the rough wall with each upward push. The movement of my body against the wall had my piercings pulling against my nipples, and the metal embedded in my cock was an exquisite torture of its own. He was nearly incoherent with lust behind me and I could tell he wasn’t going to last. He was too close. He was… Oh. Oh Gods. Oooohhhh.

My scream was lost in his howl of release. In the mirror I could see that my master was close to coming just watching us. My sated rapist was leaning against me, panting in relief as he stilled inside me. His considerable weight pushed my sensitized body into the rough wall as I tried to get my heart rate somewhere near normal. I felt the burn on my shoulders as my attacker pulled out and left me literally hanging.

I sensed my master’s approach and waited to feel his heavy cock in my ass as his fingers filled my mouth while still dangling from my chained wrists. But surprisingly he spoke a levitation spell and turned me around, put my feel on the floor in front of one of those pegs that stick straight out from the wall (coincidentally at the exact height of my ass when in heels) and after I bent at the waist from the soft snap of my master’s fingers, my mouth was promptly impaled by my master’s thick cock which in turn impaled me on the foot-long horizontal peg. I screamed silently as I gagged around the swift, heavy intrusion, as the pain took me, momentarily overcoming the pleasure of being so sluttily used. The foot-long peg was too deep and was pushing against my insides most uncomfortably, but I caught a glance of the brilliant picture my master and I made in one of the mirrors, and of the large black man at our sides stroking his renewed erection with purposeful abandon, and the heavenly debauched picture we made effectively turned me on, effectively submerging my pain in rapidly awakening sheer fucking bliss. But having just watched something so fucking hot and so wonderfully dominating, my master was perilously close to his climax. He only lasted a quick and frenzied series of strokes before his cum was choking me, and then spattering me as he shot his load in my mouth, all over my face, in my eyes, on my hair. I felt more cum hit my ass as our third came again, howling in pure delight as he emptied himself on me. Gods!

My master stepped back and watched, chest heaving in the aftermath, as their combined spunk dripped from my body and still filled hole. I closed my eyes as I stood there, still impaled still with my back horizontal to the ground, trying to catch my breath. I had cum all over the Malfoy Diamond and every part of me was throbbing. I carefully committed the experience to memory as I savoured the brief respite.

And I knew that that’s what it was: a brief respite.

There was still the matter of my punishment to consider.

Fuck.

~o0o~

TBC