Reminiscence

This story is NOT for the faint of heart. Don´t ignore my warnings. It includes character death, necrophilia, slash, rimming, violence, rape, ... and this is just the first chapter. Mothers, grab your children and run. This is just an experiment of mine. I am curious if there is ANYONE out there who likes the same twisted stories as I do.



Reminiscence

The moon was hanging sickly pale in the night sky, faintly illuminating the sleeping camping side of the Quiddich World Cup. In some places the remains of small fires glowed and noises of thousands of witches and wizards snoring, coughing or whimpering in the grip of their dreams and nightmares could be heard. The ministry workers had been able to put an end to the loud and drunken supporters of the successful Irish team at last.

The Irish were not the only people at this dark place who had enjoyed the intoxicating euphoria of firewhisky. The heads of the purest of familys and occasionally their wifes had gathered at this international event to reminiscent good old times when they had had a leader who put the rest of the society in its rightful place, when one had not to bribe his way into the ministry but when it was taken for granted that one was considered in poltical decisions due to their honourable old name. Of course these times were long gone and maybe because of that the stories and tales became wittier, more exciting, more pleasurable than they really were at the time they actually happened. Forgotten were the troubles and the fear of inplausible missions, the disgust and rare stirrings of pity not few of the fresh Death Eaters had suffered, no, these were mere inconvieniences now. The painful punishment their master inflicted sometimes out of boredom, but always ruthless and seemingly endless, was remembered now as rightful and served to heighten his dark glory.

"Do you remember the Prewett brothers?" Evan Rosier asked excitedly. His usually small eyes were now wide with inebriation, making him look like a mad child.

"Yes, I remember them clearly," jeered Flint senior. "They had a nice couple of the thightest freckled arses I ever pounded into the matress," he leered at the tall blond man, sitting across from Flint on an ornately carved armchair outside of what could be deemed more an elengant palace of cloth than a mere tent.

The blond only raised an reprimanding eyebrow at the bragging speaker. "Manners, Flint! There are ladies present", he said, stroking his thump soothingly over the hand of his pale and beautiful wife next to him.

She, on the other hand, looked not disturbed by the fate of the Prewett brothers. She smiled in fact roguishly, a very rare breach of her perfectly honed public expressions. The evening had been a long one and even the most elegant and cool of the assembled society had enjoyed more expensive wines and firewhisky than not to feel their facades slip and catching themselves getting outrageously aroused from the small innuendos of the deeds performed at various raids under the guise of some of the missions for their former master.

Seeing the roguish smile on his wifes face Lucius Malfoy couldn´t prevent himself from grinning thrilled at her, as his wife seemed to get more aroused rather than disgusted at the thought of him raping some men and putting his cock in her after fucking the holes of strangers which were literally full of shit. Well, he thought, at least they HAD BEEN Purebloods.
He felt his penis grow half hard, when his intoxicated mind promptly presented him with an image of these freckled tight asses hugging his cock, buttocks red from the pounding of at least four of his comrades before him, bloody fingerprints like a pattern at places where they were grabbed harshly again and again to be slammed backwards on the hungry cocks of the Death Eaters.
It had been a night of furious rape, as the brothers had been able to kill many of them before they had been turned into quivering bloody wrecks, crying, screaming, begging and finally whimpering as they were fucked to death. The fallen Death Eaters were not only lost competition in the ranks of the forces of the Dark Lord. They had also been comrades of some sort, intended pawns in various plots and in some cases close family members. It was also not forgotten by any of the surviving Death Eaters that there was hell to pay when they returned later to the Dark Lord with this number of casualities. So the five survivers raped the two idiots, who were the reason for more than one dose of the Cruciatus that night, making them pay, even taking potions for virility after the third round.

It was Rosier, in fact, who wondered about the oddly stillness and stiffness of Fabian Prewett, in whose arse his cock was currently residing. Montague had stepped around them to look into the faces of their victims and was greeted by two wide glassy stares sitting in warped grimaces of pain. He had backed away nauseated, but Rosier had only barked a wild laugh and resumed pounding the bloody hole of Fabian Prewetts corpse, gasping prurient that he would make him a nice present of cum for the journey to the other world. When he grunted and held tight and still on the dead body of his victim, Lucius saw Rosiers own ass quiver as he shot his seed deep into the already stiff and shredded hole of the thing before him.
With a squelching sound he pulled out is still hard member. A mixture of mostly blood and semen but also of the occasional piece of excrement or intestine coated his long torture device. After having checked the level of decay of the corpses, it became clear that they mußt have died one or two rapes ago. Crabbe and Goyle, of course, were the most uncaring, when it came to were they put their cocks and not the most sensitive to their bed partners, rape victims or not. Crabbe at least grunted, that he had felt a strong clenching and quivering somewhere in the middle of fucking Gideon Prewett. Goyle had not noticed anything. "And what did you think was all that clenching and quivering about, hm?", asked Flint cheerfully. "Did you think he was cumming because you did such a good job at fucking him?" The room errupted with uproarious laughter.

When Crabbe grinned silly and didn´t seem to care at all, Lucius had had enough. "Rosier", he comanded sharply, "since you are the one who stole the treat right before my turn was due, I command you as the leader of this raid hereby to strip and to get on your hands and knees."
There was a sudden and uncomfortable silence in the room. It was not an usual custom to order lower-ranking Death Eaters to offer their bodies, especially not with a room full of others to watch and also not after three rounds of fuckig victims to an early grave, but Lucius hat inhibited a large dose of virility potion to be ready for the next rape of the Prewett brother Rosier had fucked last. When he had seen Rosiers toned ass cheeks quiver he had had a fleeting desire to put his cock rather into that hole than into the bloody mass that didn´t even look like an ass anymore. It was the squelching sound, when Rosier pulled himself free, that nearly undid him. All he wanted at this point, was to slam into the orifice available to him and fuck as if there was no tomorrow. This plan was dwarted, when the brothers were declared dead and he was left with his achingly hard member. He would NOT arrive with this nights number of casualities AND a raging hard-on in front of the Dark Lord. So he would put it where he wanted to put it - in Evan Rosiers tight, and most likely unused, virgin ass.

Rosier looked shocked and stood stock-still. "Now!" hissed Lucius in his most dangerous voice and stared at him without batting an eye. With an notably uncomfortable expression Rosier stripped slowly, eyes cast to the ground and avoiding eye-contact with anyone. Lucius did the exact opposite. He stared at everyone intensly, as if to dare them to object or as if to read their minds to pick on mutinous thoughts later. This order may have been unusual but disobeying the appointed leader of a raid was as intelligent as disobeying their master himself. So everyone but Lucius lowered their eyes and Rosier fell hesitantly to his knees. Lucius felt satisfied with the reactions of his minions and smiled grimly.

His patience was growing thin, there would be not much preparation for Rosier. Lucius lowered himself down to Rosiers ass, grabbed the arse cheeks and pulled them violently apart. Then he inhaled deeply, while putting his nostrils lower to a male asshole than any of the men in this room likely ever had. It was not considered gay to put ones cock up a mans ass but it was a minor scandal that the impeccable and well groomed, feared and dreaded Lucius Malfoy should do something THAT perverted in front of lower ranking Death Eaters. As Lucius exhaled, he blew hot breath directly on Rosiers asshole which seemed to cause a shiver to run up Rosiers back.
Lucius, who had never seen nor smelled the excrements of someone other than himself until he joined the dark cause and raped males regularly as a way of interrogation, had found himself aroused and intoxicated by
the forbidden smell of shit. After thoroughly sniffing the orifice he wanted to use Lucius shocked his audience with another command.

"Montague, stop sulking and come over here. That´s right - I mean YOU! Now, be a good comrade and hold those arse cheeks apart for your old pal Rosier. Thaaat´s it!"
Montague, a man with long black hair, pointed beard and cool eyes was graced by a blush, that didn´t compliment his yellowish complexion at all. He did as he was told, while Lucius lowered his head again and flicked his tongue over Rosiers quivering hole, making him start and gasp. Unfortunately, Montague had gasped louder and lost hold of one ass cheek in shock, which smacked Lucius face a little. Harshly the blond pulled himself up, glaring at Montague who looked disturbed to the utmost.

"My dear friend," Lucius drawled unmistakeably impatient and annoyed, "if this excites you too much you can always ask for a lick yourself."

"N-no, thank you, Lucius, the honour is all yours. I am already spent from the abuse of the Prewett brothers. Couldn´t get it up if I tried." He laughed a high-pitched and nervous laugh, not meeting Lucius eye.

"Montague!" Montague still would not look up.

"Constantine!", Lucius purred dangerously silky, "Look at me!"

Montague couldn´t disobey a direct command and again did as he was told.
As he he held Lucius eyes this time, the other continued, "I didn´t ask you to fuck him, I am indeed the only one who has the right to do that. No, Constanine, I give you the chance of tasting his asshole before I use it. You can savour his taste at your next wank."

Montague mumbled something and while he tried to hide his revolted feelings, he got redder and sweat was visibly running down his brow.

"What was that?", asked Lucius brusquely, all pretence of amiability cast aside.

When Montague failed to come up with a coherent answer, Lucius grabbed the back of his neck and bellowed while pushing Constantines head down, "I COMMANDED you to lick his bloody hole, you mulish repressed poof. NOW!"

Montague was retching hard as his face was stuffed without ceremony between Rosiers ass cheeks. He knew not to mess with Lucius Malfoy in this state having never heard him swear like a trooper. The cussing of this sophisticated man also was one of the causes of Rosiers gasping. The other reason was that he had felt gases in his intestines gathering for a while now and couldn´t help himself but to let some of it go when his ass cheeks were pulled apart without warning. Montague coughed and retched again, as he swallowed his vomit, which threatened to spill on Rosier. Lucius laughed and his breaths became more heavy as he smelled the aroma of Rosiers insides and held Montague forcefully down at his neck. "Lovely!" he breathed. "I can´t wait to have you, Rosier! Let the rest out slowly, while he licks you. Furthermore, you are allowed to touch yourself."
"Why, thank you, Lucius!", Rosier simpered falsely, letting Lucius know that he was maybe to be fucked by him but that Lucius was taking his spleen a little bit too far for his taste.
A rustling could be heard, as Crabbe, Goyle and Flint, who had positioned themselves as a silent audience, pulled their hard members out again and started to stroke them. They, too, seemed to have taken a fresh gulp of the virility potion.

TBC

As this is my first stab at writing fanfiction, I am curious to read what you think about this story. Reviews would be very welcome!