AN: I own nothing but the right to cry at the end of the eighth movie, and the middle.
Also this story takes place during the First War, before Voldy gets all snakey.
He didn't bother himself with ridiculous traditions. Marriage, what a freaking scam. Bonded with another for as long as you both shall live. It wasn't like she was going to be faithful to him. There was a reason everyone called her Slutty Little Trixy. He laughed at the notion that she was truly in love with Lestrange.
Love didn't exist. Love as a principle was supposed to be unconditional, human nature didn't allow for unconditional. Love doesn't exist, only a fondness of power, and control.
Voldemort walked around the kitchen, of the Lestrange mansion. Bella had picked Lestrange because he was mildly dedicated to the cause, good looking, and Bella's favorite, completely pure blooded; you could trace it back for a few hundred generations. Mr. Lestrange was out running errands, or killing Mudbloods. He wasn't expected back for another few hours.
Pulling a bottle of elf wine out of an ice bucket, he conjured a goblet, shaping it like bones. Bones seemed beautiful; death was a beauty to be appreciated. After filling the cup half full of wine, poured a good margin of dragon blood in the cup. Dragon blood was strengthening, and helped boost physical strength. It did taste vile, like happiness.
Voldemort swirled the mixture as he starred out into the starry sky. Not because of its beauty but for a need of control. Controlling day and night would come under his control soon enough, soon enough. The more power he gained the darker it became.
In the master bedroom, directly above the kitchen, Bellatrix Lestrange formerly of the Black Family was waiting patiently. She was lying across a huge round bed, the headboard incrusted with silver serpents laying across black vines, in barely there lace underwear.
Morally she should have been waiting for her new husband. Yet, she was waiting most patiently, more patiently then for her own husband. She was waiting for her only master, the only man to ever completely control her. Emotionally, physically, intelligently, and even sexually.
After perhaps another hours weight, a body burst through the door, leaving it wide open. Voldemort had come through the door with so much force the windows on the other side of the room had been thrown open, the curtains blown out the window.
"What have I told you Bella? None of this stupid lingerie." he waved his wanded hand over her petite frame, and the black brassiere and panties burst into flames, quickly being incinerated.
"Yes, Master." she quickly threw the remains on the floor.
He threw his cloak on the ground, and started to undo the buttons on his vest. Bella had made the mistake on one of these occasions of trying to help. He'd left. After a speech about dependence, and control, one she'd heard a million times before. After having unclothed himself, he laid his naked body over hers.
Quickly he thrusted into her, moving almost mechanically, yet independent of anything else. No thoughts of death, muggles or the war. The rhythm increased, making Bella giggle. The giggle was light and airy, yet carried something more sinister. The cackle that was the only evidence of the sick satisfaction she received from her service to him.
Bellatrix's head was slowly moving towards the headboard, with every movement of their bodies. Soon her head was slamming into the silver snakes, whether Voldemort noticed wasn't apparent as he didn't stop. Typical as he showed no care for the well-being of his followers. He didn't need too, most of them, except for the cowardly Wormtail, had their own motives.
Malfoy and Lestrange wanted power. Bella wanted wizards to have complete control, because of some crazy anti-muggleborn ideals that had been inbreed into her head. Voldemort contrastly didn't hate muggles just because; he hated them because of how his father had left him, to be born in an orphanage. Good for nothing, that's what muggles, are.
Bellatrix looked up at the textured plastered ceiling, as her head was slowly slamming into the sharp head board. She didn't mind. She'd endure a hundred times this pain to serve him. She soon felt the hot trickle of blood running through the top mass of her hair. The black strands always seemed to have a mind of their own, and at the moment they were contained in a messy bun at the top of her head. That would catch the blood so her lord wouldn't need to be disgusted by it.
The rhythmic thrusts of Voldemort were starting to make the burn in Bellatrix spread. Her internal muscles started to tighten, and with the slightest flutter, Voldemort completely stopped. He pulled out completely, and for the first time looked her dead in the eye.
"Stop" it wasn't a suggestion, it was a command and as it said it he ran his long fingernails down her cheek, piercing just below her jaw and dragging the tear all the way to the connection of her prominent collar bones. She immediately relaxed every muscle in her body starring back at her lord. He smiled but it was exceptionally sinister, but altogether affirming that Bella wasn't in trouble.
Bellatrix couldn't fathom his reasons for not wanting her to finish. Other than the whole affair was for his pleasure not hers. But he was just so good, good at everything he does. And that's why soon enough he would be regarded as the greatest wizard of all time.
Soon enough he started his mechanical action once again. He quickly started to pulse between her legs. When the silence of the room was interrupted by Bella's high pitch, "Harder. My Lord" she half spoke and half whined. Begging and pleading with him.
He obliged pushing himself into her at twice the force of before; her head was now bleeding profusely. She could feel the blood seeping into the sheets beneath her. But quickly Voldemort started to shake uncontrollably on top of her, his nails dug into the skin next to her hip bones. She felt her muscles start to flutter around her master members as his hot cum shot into her stomach. She tried to stop them, but soon were pulsing full force around him.
His weight had fallen completely on top of her but as her core flexed, she felt his muscles tense on top of her. As waves of pleasure washed over her, her mind raced into over drive waiting for pain.
She kept her eyes closed as Voldemorts' strong form left her's. Soon enough her fear came true as she felt a wand get pressed into throat. A tingling sensation raced from her jaw to her clavicle. Her thoughts were interrupted as he spoke,
"You truly are my most faithful servant." he meant down over her form and performed another spell, healing the back of her head and cleaning up the blood.
He quickly dressed and left. Bella sat up with a smile plastered on her face. Maybe it was possible for a heartless human to care. Or care for those who furthered his power.
AN: Please Review I love them :)