Victim

“Was it an act of contrition or some awful premonition, As if she saw into the heart of her final blood-soaked night. Those lunatic eyes, that hungry kitchen knife, Ah, I see sir, that I have your attention!”—Nick Cave, Song of Joy


Bellatrix Lestrange stood, panting, staring down at the man who lay shivering at her feet, tears leaking from his eyes. Her dark black hair hung in her face and her eyes were wild with pleasure.

“Stop,” he moaned, shaking on the floor. “I swear, I don’t know anything—”

“You lie!” she shrieked, circling him like a shark, her wand pointed down at him with a terrible smile on her face. “I’ll show you pain like you’ve never known, boy, if you don’t answer me!”

“But—” he never quite managed to finish the sentence before she shrieked “Crucio!” and he screamed again under a fresh onslaught of pain.

“You’re in one of your moods, I see,” a voice drawled from behind her; without even turning around she knew it was Rodolphus.

“Fuck you,” she snapped, not looking back at him. “If I didn’t want this bastard to hurt so badly, I’d give him a respite and aim this curse at you.”

“Is that anyway to talk to your husband?” he said, amused and unconcerned by her threats. He had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the man’s screams. “I say, Bellatrix, ease up a bit, will you? It is bloody hard to carry on a conversation with him screaming like that.”

“Lestrange, first of all, I didn’t marry you because I particularly like you, and second, these screams are the only thing I particularly want to hear at the moment.”

“Well, then,” Rodolphus said, voice darkening. “I’ve heard you do much better, Bellatrix. It hurts worse if you stop and give them time to breath. It takes longer to break them that way.”

“Ah,” she said, halting the curse and breathing harshly. “I suppose I can be accommodating,” she bit out. Her voice sounded like broken glass—the curse was rushing through her, transforming her, changing her into something as sharp and painful as the curse she was casting on her unfortunate victim.

“I imagine you can,” he said agreeably, and then without changing vocal expression he addressed her victim, “you may continue pleading for mercy if you wish, but it only makes her more…creative.”

The man fell silent, and Bellatrix finally looked at her husband. With a pout, she said “now he won’t beg me anymore. What is the point of pulling the curse if I can’t hear him beg?”

“Please, miss, I don’t know why you are doing this, but I—” the man gasped, and Bellatrix screwed her face up into an expression of rage and shrieked.

“Crucio! You will not address me! You will not speak to me! I do this only to see the blood, to feel your pain, to hear you scream and beg! That is the only sound you may make!”

“Mmm. You are so beautiful when you torture them, darling,” he purred, and she flicked her eyes to watch him lean against a wall, one hand behind his head and the other moving down to leisurely stroke himself. “I want you to make him beg, Bella.” His voice was husky, and she smiled her dagger-sharp smile before pulling her curse.

“You heard him,” she said to the man on the floor. “Beg. Beg me. Who knows, maybe it will actually work.” Her laugh was as sharp as her smile—like shards of glass.

“Mmph-” the man was barely coherent, unable to pull himself together under the scrutiny of the madwoman with the dark black eyes and the aptitude for pain to say anything discernable.

“Beg!” Bellatrix hissed, and kicked him harshly in the ribs.

Behind her, Rodolphus moaned.

“Please! Don’t hurt me!” the man screamed, and Bellatrix laughed, delighted as he finally complied. She tossed her hair and looked back to Rodolphus, who had unfastened his trousers.

“Good enough?” She asked him, biting her lip as she watched him take his length in hand and stroke it slowly.

“Enough. Make him scream for me, Bellatrix.” His hand moved faster, his eyes were narrowed as he watched her.

She cast the curse again, but her eyes were on her husband as he worked himself against the wall. “Inspire me, and maybe I will,” she said, ignoring the soft cries of her victim.

“You are so beautiful in your rage, my love,” he purred, his breathing quickening. “When you have broken him, I’m going to take you against this wall, and hold you down so you can’t move.”

She tapped her foot, smirking. “Lovely, but hardly inspiring.”

“I’ll bite that beautiful neck of yours, just like you like. I’ll twist your nipples and wrap your hair in my fist and pull so hard you’ll have tears in your eyes,” he bit out. He stopped for a moment to growl at her, “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to stand when I’m finished.”

“Crucio”, she said, and the man screamed and her husband’s hand worked over his hard length, his back arching slightly and a flush climbing up his face.

She stopped, as did he. Both men were panting, writhing—but she was far more interested in the one against the wall.

“You know you want to hurry with him, don’t you? Because you want me to hurt you, make you bleed. You want to be the one screaming, don’t you, love? And I can make you scream. You may scream in pleasure, in pain—both, either—whatever you want. I can give it to you so much better than anyone, can’t I, Bellatrix? Come, make him scream, show me that you want to writhe beneath me just as he does under your curse.”

“Crucio,” she said, and this was a quieter, slightly out of breath command, although hardly ineffective.

“Yessss,” he hissed, “that’s it. I know you’re wet, Bellatrix, I know you want him to finish so I can take you, so I can break you like I always do…”

She moaned, and the curse wavered slightly. He laughed huskily. “Tsk, tsk, you are the Dark Lord’s most feared torturer and yet you falter? I’ll have to punish you for that, Bella,” he said, and she narrowed dark black eyes and stopped the curse, focusing her wand on him and ignoring the man on the ground—half conscious now and a mess on the floor.

“Don’t think I won’t do it,” she breathed, eyes sparking as she walked towards him slowly, like the predator she was. “I’ll throw this curse on you, Rodolphus. You know I will.”

He was close, she could tell from the rapid movement of his hand over his cock, of his glazed, narrow-eyed look and the restlessness of his shifting movements against the wall. “I know,” he said, the words a moan.

Behind them, the man she was breaking sobbed quietly. Neither of them noticed.

She stepped up to him, running her wand over his throat meeting his eyes. “You want me to do it, don’t you? You want me to hurt you with it, when you come. Don’t lie, Rodolphus, I can see it in your eyes.”

“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes.”

She stepped back from him, and raised her wand. Her eyes closed once, lashes descending and veiling her gaze as she said softly, “good.”

When she opened her eyes, she looked down at his cock, swollen and red, his movements faster and jerkier as he approached orgasm. “Are you ready?” It was a soft threat, her voice was pulsing in excitement.

“Now,” he gasped out, back arching sharply.

“Crucio.” She it like a caress, like a love word, and between the two of them, it was. She watched as he came, and pulled her curse as he sank slowly to the ground in the aftermath, head on his knees.

“God, Bellatrix,” he said, breathing harshly. “God.”

“I told you I didn’t marry you because I liked you,” she said, amused, hands crossed over her chest as she stared down at him.

He raised his head from where it rested on his knees to look at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and replete, sweat on his brow and his dark hair in his face. “I know,” he said in a strangely loving tone.

“I believe you promised to fuck me until I could stand no longer,” she reminded him, thrilled by his attempt to recover, and his head lying supine on his knees.

He did not look at her. “By the time you are done with your unfortunate victim, I shall be ready to make good on my promise. By the way, who is this poor man?”

Bellatrix turned to the man on the floor, and cocked her head thoughtfully. “I have no idea,” she said honestly. “I just saw him on the street and thought he’d look pretty under my curse.”

“They all look beautiful under your curse, darling,” he said quietly, and she turned her back on him with a smile to finish what she had begun.