Literatti: Fiction By Deslea
One's Station In Life
Deslea R. Judd
Summary: A desperate Cygnus asks the Dark Lord to get his wayward daughter under control. Unwittingly, he plays into both of their hands. PWP.
Word Count: Approx 2100
More Fic: On AO3 or my fic site.
Feedback: Love the stuff. On AO3 or at deslea at deslea dot com.
"Your father has asked me to take you in hand."
The Dark Lord said this from his seat at the desk in his drawing room. Since most of his entertaining at home was merely a guise for business, the room doubled as his study. It wasn't the first time Bella had been here, but it was the first time she had had the luxury of inspecting it in detail. The bookshelves behind him were lined with a fascinating array of obscure and dark magic, Muggle and magical war histories, and political treatises. Mein Kampf, The Third Avalon Uprising, and Plato's Republic stood side by side. Bella would have seriously considered surrendering her wand if she could spend the rest of her life reading the Dark Lord's library in return.
Now, the Dark Lord went on, "You must understand, Lady Black, I am not in the practice of involving myself in my subjects' domestic circumstances. I expect a man to manage his own family, and I question his suitability for my ranks when he cannot."
Bella nodded meekly. "Yes, my Lord."
"However," he conceded, leaning back in his chair and pressing his fingertips together, "I am told by others that your wilfulness is quite extraordinary, and quite beyond the reasonable capabilities of even the best of men. Furthermore, it is a distraction for Cygnus that is frankly unwelcome. I have important work for him to do. It's bad enough that his thoughts are still troubled by your blood traitor sister, who is better forgotten. I don't need his thoughts preoccupied with you, as well."
At this, Bella lifted her head to meet his gaze fully. "What do you propose to do with me, my Lord?"
He regarded her thoughtfully. "Were you a commoner, we would not be having this conversation. You would be on the floor under the Cruciatus already. In view of your lineage, I will give you an opportunity to explain yourself like a reasonable young lady of your station in life. If you do not, you will be punished. You will be given a choice between my hand and a cane, but otherwise, there will be no mercy." As a recitation, it was clearly intended to intimidate, and it was successful; Bella felt her stomach begin to constrict with dread at the very thought of it. The Dark Lord went on, "Now, Lady Black. Start talking."
She said softly, "I do not wish to marry."
The Dark Lord snorted. "You and half of your peers. Let us disregard, for a moment, that you are your father's property to give away as he wishes." Bella's nostrils flared. She was bound by the ancient magical laws of her bloodline; the centuries-old emancipation of common witches did not extend to her. It was an unpleasant truth that chafed at her every day. "What would you propose to do instead? I do not approve of a life of leisure."
"Nor do I," she flared. "Those with the means should devote themselves to the Cause. As would I."
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. "You wish to join my ranks, Lady Black?"
"I suppose you consider that unthinkable. But I am one of the most gifted witches of my generation." Her fighting and flying skills were fact, not opinion; she held international titles in duelling and Quidditch. "My credentials are impeccable."
"Do not presume to know my mind ever again," he said with a tone of warning.
"Yes, my Lord," she said hurriedly.
"And you are quite wrong," he went on. "I believe in position based on both blood and merit, and yours is well known. Were it your decision to make, I would consider you a great asset." He went on thoughtfully, "There are, of course, thoroughly modern men among us who might allow their wives to take a career in the ranks. Perhaps your father would consider one of them?"
Bella shook her head. "He's fixed his mind on Lucius Malfoy. Andromeda was promised to him, before she ran off with that wretched Mudblood. My father wants to make amends. And the Malfoys like their women to sit at home having endless unbearable tea parties while the men rule the sodding world."
The Dark Lord inclined his head. "Well then. You will have to accept his choice."
Bella rose from her chair. She flared, "I will not."
The Dark Lord rose too, terrifyingly quickly. He loomed over her, tall, jaw set hard. He leaned on his hands and said, "Lady Black. I do not tolerate insubordination. Not in my ranks and certainly not from wilful little girls like you."
She glared out at him from beneath obstinate furrows in her brow. She would get on her knees before him, pledge allegiance to everything he stood for in a heartbeat, but not even he could insult her without protest. "I'm not a girl. I'm a woman, and a bloody capable one too. You should be telling Father to marry me to someone who will let me fight, not just sitting there and accepting it as a fait accompli!"
She knew it for the mistake it was even as she was saying it; felt the chills of dread and horror accumulate in her chest. Circe, if he'd thought her insolent before-
The Dark Lord walked around his desk. Grasped her by the upper arm and tugged her close. "You are a girl, and a bad one at that." He manhandled her to stand before the desk, tying her hands firmly with magical ropes with just the faintest twitch of his wand. "You will have no choice in this, Lady Black. Women are extended courtesies according to their station in life. Girls get what they're given."
Fury coursed through her, and she made no effort to conceal it in her mind. He might be a great and mighty warrior, well worth her devotion, but she was a Black and she was not his property.
"On the contrary," he murmured with a chuckle. "Your father gave me a free hand. And I mean to use it." As soon as he'd said it, she felt the swish of her skirt, up over her bottom, and his hand swatted her there. She flinched, and thought parenthetically that she was glad she was wearing respectable white silk knickers. She'd donned a rather miserable cotton pair that morning and changed them at the very last minute.
Surprising warmth entered the Dark Lord's voice. "Such pride, Lady Black. You need to learn humility."
Arse. As if standing here while being spanked with her father's blessing wasn't bloody humiliating enough.
"More insolence? You really don't learn, do you," he said mildly as he delivered another swat of his hand.
With difficulty, Bella schooled her thoughts. The pain was mild - in fact, far less than her childhood spankings from her father - and the point of the exercise was really only to put her in her place. Very well, she would grit her teeth and bear it, then leave, cursing them both beneath her breath. It was the battle to forfeit in order to win the war.
She endured a few more of these swats, forcing herself to relax her muscles. It wasn't too difficult; the slaps were rhythmic and even, and her body absorbed the force of them, streams of shallow ripples through her pelvis. She felt it as alternating chills and tingling warmth, friction like a particularly pleasurable itch, heavy and waiting to be thoroughly scratched. She felt her spine arcing, her bottom rising higher in the air, and cursed herself for it.
"Oh, Lady Black," he reproved. He stood close behind her, pressing against her as he leaned over her shoulder. "Are you enjoying this? You really are a filthy little girl." He put his hands on her sides, above the waist, repositioning her slightly, brushing the sideswell of her breasts while he was there.
She choked back a tiny sigh and wished he would call her Bella.
"Perhaps one day," he murmured, and twitched his fingers beneath the elastic of her knickers and slipped them off her. She knew she should be mortified, knew this was not what her father had in mind, but oh God-
His hands came to rest on her bottom, cupping over both cheeks of her exposed flesh. Tracing them, parting them. Parting her thighs. Lifting her higher with a fingertip to each hip. She could feel her nether lips part, could feel her clit pushing out into cool air.
He traced one long, delicate finger between her folds. Teased it over her, spreading slick warmth. "Look how much you enjoyed that. Do you know, your pussy is simply overflowing here?" He said it with such a sincere tone of mild curiosity that it throbbed through her, like it wasn't the stupidest, most deliberately crass bloody statement in the world. He was fucking with her head, she knew he was doing it, and she couldn't. Fucking. Stop it.
"You know what I think you liked about that?" he went on, all innocent enquiry.
"No," she said through gritted teeth.
"It would have been so easily to slip, now, wouldn't it?" His hands were up on her derriere again, kneading her there, then wandering lower again towards her aching cunt. "While spanking your delicious little bottom, I could have -" he cupped her mound and dragged his palm back over it "- missed my aim, shall we say."
His aim was bloody well perfect, she thought as she pushed back against his hand with a groan. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying so.
He chuckled then. He'd caught the thought, the bastard, of course he had.
"And if I missed my aim just a little bit more," he said, pressing his fingertips into her soaking wet folds, "maybe I'd just sink my fingers right into that sweet pink wet cunt-"
"Ungh," she blurted, tugging on her magical ropes, stifled sound of frustration and desperate, desperate need-
He kept those fingers inside of her to the hilt, pressing and kneading, slowly, rhythmically. Enough to keep it building and building and building but not enough to let go.
"Poor girl, you're simply aching for it, aren't you? It must be so hard, rubbing up against all those young men at parties, getting all hot and bothered, then having to take care of yourself after they leave. All to stay pure for a husband you don't even want."
He dragged his fingers out of her and she nearly screamed with frustration. He put his arms around her shoulders and began to unbutton her dress, tugging her bra down beneath her breasts. He teased her there, maddening, and she writhed in his embrace.
"Maybe we can do something about that, though," he said in a low voice behind her ear. "If I were to tell your father you weren't...intact...and that someone was willing to marry you anyway..."
"Who?" she demanded. Momentarily diverted from her aching, needy flesh.
"Rodolphus has as much use for a wife as you do a husband. He would do it, if I asked." His hands grew heavier on her breasts, kneading them hard, and he pressed against her, hard cock through thin trousers in the cleft of her arse. "Of course, I couldn't lie to your father. I couldn't tell him you weren't intact when you are. That would be quite wrong."
She couldn't suppress a watery laugh. She ground hard back against him, rubbing herself over his cock, mindlessly tightening inside, looking for the fingers he had taken away. "You're such an arse. You planned this."
"I knew what you wanted before you did. I knew you wanted to be my soldier. And I knew you wanted to be my slave."
"I'm no one's fucking slave, God damn you. I'm a Black." There was a betraying whine in her voice as she searched for him, trying to rub her clit against his cock, and she couldn't get purchase.
"Aren't you?" he demanded. "Do you really mean to tell me you wouldn't give everything for me to sink my cock into that slick wet cunt of yours right now?" He took her earlobe between surprisingly gentle lips as he found her clit at last and pressed it in firm little circles. "You don't want me to fuck away that stupid maidenhead that they prize so fucking much and make you the woman you want to be?" His cock was bare now, head pressing maddeningly against her entrance. Then, in a low, penetrating voice directly into her ear, "You don't want me to call you Bella - not Lady fucking Black, but Bella - while I bend you over and fuck your brains out?"
"God!" she shouted. "Of course I do, just fuck me already!"
He was deep inside her, cock sunk into her as far as he could go before she'd even finished saying it, and she gasped out the shock and the relief and the force of it, opening to him completely as he began to thrust. His cock reached all the places she never could, places she'd known were there but could never satisfy. He shoved into her over and over, through one climax, then another, then another. Clasped her hard against him with his free arm, kneading her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples until they were as hard and aching as her clit, then speeding up to bring her relief.
"Bella," he groaned into her ear as he tensed inside her, "beautiful wilful wanton Bella. My beautiful soldier. My beautiful slave."
As before, she knew he was fucking with her head; as before, it worked. She sighed out, "Yes. Your slave," as he shuddered out his climax inside her.
Well, she thought as he stretched her out on his desk for more, it wasn't emancipation, but it was what she wanted. What she needed. It was being a woman and not a girl; it was living the life she wanted to lead.
Perhaps that was freedom enough.
Wow. I need a cigarette.
I find long explicit sex scenes quite laborious to write, as a rule. (My regular readers will know that I usually write three or four paragraphs that give a soft-focus view of what's going on, and maybe a smattering of sexywords, and leave it at that). But this one was written in one sitting, in two and a half hours. I've never done that before. And I suspect it was because it was such a good fit for the characters. I really liked this feisty, on-her-own-terms Bella, and this smooth, manipulative First War Voldemort (who I modelled very much on Christian Coulson's portrayal in Chamber of Secrets).
The funny part about this is, even though I think it works really well, it didn't come from any deep and meaningful meta about the characters at all. I had an idle thought yesterday that I'd never seen any Bellamort spankyfic, and you'd sort of expect to see some for such a domineering character as Voldemort. So I did an advanced search on AO3 for Bellatrix/Voldemort and spanking, and lo and behold, there was none. Not a one. I do realise there are other fic places, but still, this struck me as something to be corrected. I expected it to take ages, and that it would need to be disclaimed as a bit silly, too. But stories have a way of surprising me sometimes.