The Dark Gryffindor

Please review!


Continuation of…


Chapter Thirty-four: Death Eaters Orgy


The men still in their impressive military-like uniforms, medals emblazoned on their chests made a semi-circle before the altar. Voldemort stepped onto the front of it and stood silent on a ledge. The room seemed to ring with an echo of suspense as for a long moment nobody spoke.

It was only now in this moment of near tranquility that the Death Eaters became aware of their surroundings. Roman style arches surrounded its perimeter everywhere, leading to other chambers betwixt columns. The ceiling was vaulted and the floor was smooth and polished. Everything was ivory coloured stone with inlaid scalloping. Yew branches like brambles grew on the columns and the floor was littered with black rose petals.

All of them were in their silver masks except of course for their master. Voldemort remained hidden behind his hood. It gave his countenance an air of terrifying mystique to make him almost completely unapproachable. The snake remained with Voldemort, slithering on the floor of the altar. She affectionately rubbed herself against Voldemort’s ankles, until she entwined at his feet. Yet Voldemort paid the great serpent no mind. Nevertheless it seemed to solidify his reasons for being on the platform of the altar.

Voldemort’s eyes clamped firmly onto his Death Eaters below: Lucius, Draco, Wormtail, Snape and Yaxley. Each man stood several feet apart from the other, so that they felt more alone and frightened before him.

Finally, Voldemort began a speech, his voice barely above a whisper, yet there was most definitely a constrained fervor. “On the night we convene to celebrate the ancient tradition of Walpurgis Night, however early that may be…I ask that you concede with each other that your purpose of being here is to deem yourself worthy. Worthy in the service of Lord Voldemort!”

And Voldemort’s voice grew now rising like a strong tide. “Death Eaters – my men. My true family…You shall offer the blood – the Pureblood that runneth through your veins…here on my altar. Present it to me as you wish…Prove you are worthy to Lord Voldemort…Blood calls to blood and if ever be your families in danger or desire help, be it known Lord Voldemort shall do what he can to thwart your enemies, and thus for all others who acknowledge the power, the might of the Dark Lord…”

It may not have been true, this promise to offer his aid in a crisis. Voldemort was merely using it is an incentive to the weak, to make them think he would give them protection. It appealed to the motley collection of all his Death Eaters whether present or not, as it always had. And Voldemort – he considered this testament to the weakness of their minds something he would do well to exploit in the Purebloods forevermore.

Wormtail took out a short curved knife from a deep pocket of his robes. The sharp blade gnashed off a large chunk of his pink flesh at his muscular left forearm, located above his Dark Mark. Wormtail with his silver hand clutched his forearm and kneeled, shaking convulsively from the anguish.

Snape emerged forward and pried the silver hand off to where the blood spurted. More of it drizzled down onto the floor. With dexterity, Snape conjured a goblet. He let the blood pour into it.

And Voldemort parted the folds in his robes, where he was hiding something behind the folds of his cloak. It was a cymbal; his bony wrist was wearing it now, like a bracelet. He shook it and the iron bells clanged and incense drifted like clouds above to the vaulted ceiling.

The clanging of the bells seemed to extol their passion. It awakened some primal and brutish part in the men, setting it free. Yaxley actually moaned and let loose a primitive, long cry.

The rivulets of blood formed on the polished white floor, as if anointing the vicinity of the altar. It was remnants of each of the Death Eater’s sacrifice to make the offering. Once Lucius finally caught Snape’s blood in the goblet, Lucius brought the goblet before Voldemort at his altar.

Lucius approached Voldemort’s crude altar, whilst all the others kneeled. Lucius rose the goblet above his head victoriously. It contained a mixture of all their blood. Voldemort drank deeply of the offering like it was the cup of life or rather the cup of death.

His lipless curvature of a mouth was stained red when he spoke. “Now my friends…I have drunk of the blood, the Pureblood that runneth through your veins here at my altar. You have thus proved yourself through this offering. Worthy of Lord Voldemort…Of my affection.”

Voldemort made the cymbals clang again and again until it became a musical semblance. The brutal passion was set free in all five of the men before him and they rocked back and forth in unison as if reciting a prayer. Voldemort looked quite satisfied and ready for whatever he wanted to be had next.

“To affirm and thus reaffirm your eternal service to me here tonight…You shall now recite the vows all together as one….Knowing that the act and the lust for your master will be granted shortly as reward for your obedience…”

Voldemort listened as his Death Eaters spoke in Latin the Unbreakable vows they had made when they had been initiated. It was like a liturgy of scripture in homage to Lord Voldemort, who stood on his altar like a dark god.

“The worship of me is complete…If any among you are brave enough to demonstrate their true loyalties to me, let them come forward!”

There was a long pause of silence, whilst the five men stared at each other challengingly.

Then finally Yaxley screamed with triumph, “I shall!”

He broke free of the semi-circle and extricated himself at the base of Voldemort’s altar. “I confess my – my doubts over the safety of your reign!” But this was a lie; Yaxley did not know why he was lying like this.

Voldemort of course knew this was a lie. “Then accept your punishment with grace, Yaxley. Crucio!”

Yaxley screamed and writhed on the ground whilst Snape, Draco, Wormtail and Lucius watched.

Yaxley regained his bearings and returned to kneel. “Thank-you master." Yaxley truely was grateful it seemed he had only made that confession because he believed the punishment would somehow cleanse him and make him more valuable to Voldemort.

Voldemort did not answer but finally stepped off his altar. Silently he beckoned at his men to encircle him in the center.

Yaxley and Draco who were completely new to this ritualized event watched appalled as Voldemort parted the place between his robes. Voldemort’s hands almost affectionately rubbed the space between his legs, obviously to where his member would be. Draco kept his eyes determinedly to the floor, studying the black rose petals. But the others stared with straight faces.

Finally after a long minute Voldemort seemed to be done masturbating. It had clearly been done for dramatic effect. But before withdrawing his gnarled hands, Voldemort rang the cymbals still hanging from his wrist.

A short cry of ecstasy escaped their lips as if they could orgasm already. The clouds of incense drifted upwards once again.

“Remove your ceremonial robes,” he whispered. “And your masks.”

They complied at once, all of their robes sliding off their chests behind them. Resolutely they remained kneeling on the floor, yet Draco shifted with strong feelings of forbearance for it to start, wishing it to end now so he could escape to privacy. He was very aware of being exposed.

Voldemort surveyed the men his eyes swiveling to each one of their privates with a greedy hungry look in them. He adored how they truly looked submissive; each of them kneeling for him and exposed.

“Nagini slither inside my pet…” His words were slippery and yet they sounded in Parseltongue, which none of the men could understand.

The great snake climbed up Voldemort’s bare, hairless legs inside his robes and Voldemort loosened them, half exposing his privates. Yaxley’s eyes widened in awe and Draco’s face remained steadily to the floor. Yet Lucius, Snape and Wormtail were not so shocked, they had seen Voldemort naked many times throughout the years.

Voldemort's pulsating cock had the tip of it eroded by Nagini. The head of Nagini came up to Voldemort’s shoulder, while her tail clung to his backside. Slowly the snake’s orifice opened wide, yet the men could not see this, and then she was taking Voldemort, riding his cock all the way up the shaft. At the same time the snake’s other sexual organ was invading his anus, yet the men could not see this. Voldemort remained hooded throughout partially concealing his pleasure, and yet he moaned.

“Arrgh…Arrgh…Arrgh…” he sibilantly issued, and the hollowness of it seemed to echo all around the room, into every corner of the high ceiling. Voldemort was in the throes of his pleasure and close to climax.

“As I am to spill my seed…Lucius you will suck me off.”

Lucius looked up sharply at Voldemort. Slowly he nodded gravely, his gray eyes dull and dazed, secretely in denial that this could happen to him. He did not look happy to be doing this. Voldemort approached the kneeling Death Eater. The snake unhitched itself from Voldemort and slithered to be alone in the center of the intimate circle.

Tongue turning like a corkscrew, Lucius obeyed his master. Inwardly, he thought at least his wife was not permitted to take in any part of this. That would have been too humiliating for him to bare. And Voldemort ejaculated, spilling the warm sperm into Lucius’s mouth.

Voldemort went to each of his men, touching and practically molesting them with the belief he felt affection for them. At some point Voldemort had the gall to shamelessly drop his robes and be naked with them. Yet it was all rather false. He did not know it, but there was no true intimacy, however much he believed he was capable of the feeling.

And then Snape was targeted. “Severus…turn away from me.”

“My Lord,” grimaced Snape, sounding almost weak. But Snape did as he was told.

“Face to the floor Severus,” said Voldemort blandly.

Snape couldn’t believe he was being put to use like this, especially as he was Voldemort’s right hand man. Yet he was being placed in the most submissive posture of them all. Inwardly he was happy that Valerie could not be conscious to witness it. His behind hanging in the air, Voldemort stepped closer.

Snape groaned as Voldemort’s huge cock invaded the place between his buttocks. The Dark Lord fucked him mercilessly, practically tearing at his insides. And Snape involuntarily had his body throbbing. Finally it was over and Snape was able to turn around and face the others again.

Voldemort finished off his cult ceremony, with three intermittent clangs of the iron cymbal bells again. Once again, the enchanted cymbals awakened the men’s libido and they reveled in it, expelling cries of passion with each powerful clamor of the bells. They shook erratically in near trances of ecstasy to their Lord, for Voldemort had now manipulated and frightened them so much, that in this moment they believed he was all they desired.

“It is over…I have mastered you,” whispered Voldemort. He withdrew the cymbals from his wrist, and hid them back in his magically magnified pockets of his robes.


NOTE: Please review. This is the end of the orgy, but not the end of the sex for Walpurgis…rest assured those women are lieing in that water basin for a definite reason.