Author's Notes: Written for ReillyJade's Competition for the Rest of Us on the HPFC forum.

Well, here you have it – Gamma Orionis's centennial contribution to the fanfiction world. And in true Gamma Orionis-ly form, I am celebrating with that which brought me into the fandom in the first place.

Bellamort PWP.



It had taken a great deal of begging and pleading for Bellatrix to convince her fiancé, Rodolphus, to take her to a Death Eater meeting. He had been reluctant, the Dark Lord had been reluctant, but through sheer persistence, Bellatrix had managed to talk them into letting her sit in on one meeting.

And she was very annoyed with herself that, once she was at the meeting, she found it impossible to focus on the Dark Lord.

Or, rather, impossible to focus on what he was saying.

She was having no difficulty at all focussing on him. In fact, Rodolphus had prodded her several times to alert her to the fact that she was staring. She simply couldn't take his eyes off him – the man was perfect. Not just physically – though he most certainly was that, in Bellatrix's opinion – but in every way. The aura of power surrounding him was palpable and delicious, and she was finding it extremely difficult to keep her mind clear of fantasies. She wouldn't have even bothered trying except that she knew several of the men at the table to be powerful at legilimency, and she didn't much fancy the idea of them seeing her thinking of the various increasingly creative ways that she could make love to the Dark Lord.

Stop thinking about it!

"You are dismissed." The Dark Lord's voice broke through the haze in Bellatrix's mind. "All of you may go – except Bellatrix. I wish to speak to her."

Bellatrix swallowed as the other men stood and exited. Was it possible that the Dark Lord knew what she had been thinking of?

"Did you enjoy the meeting, little Bellatrix," he asked, his tone mocking and condescending.

"I… I did, my Lord."

He stood as well, making his way slowly to her seat, standing behind her and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Your thoughts during the meeting were most impure, you know, Bella…"

Her face flushed crimson. So he did know. "I- I apologise, my Lord…"

"If any of the men had allowed their minds to wander from the meeting room into their bedrooms, I would have dismissed them from the meeting. I grant you leeway only because of your youth and your gender. Given those two things, I thought it… perhaps not the best course of action to let you leave."

"M- My Lord?"

"A young woman, especially one as pretty as yourself, should not be punished for having… shall we say, sexual urges. Such urges should, in fact, be encouraged."

"I… don't think I understand what you…"

He smirked at her. "You are innocent still, are you not, Bellatrix? You and Rodolphus Lestrange are engaged but you have not yet lain with him? You are a virgin?"

Bellatrix nodded, blushing deeply, unsure as to why the Dark Lord would possibly wish to inquire about the state of her maidenhead.

"Well," he murmured, "we'll have to fix that, won't we?"

"My Lord?" Surely he couldn't mean…

Bellatrix felt his hands on her waist and in an instant she was thrown onto the table, landing on her back. The wind was knocked out of her and she struggled to sit up. The Dark Lord's hand on her shoulder forced to stay her flat onto her back. She felt her skirt being wrenched up around her hips and cool fingers probing at her most sensitive parts.

"My Lord," Bellatrix whispered, squirming slightly, though whether in discomfort or pleasure she wasn't entirely sure. "I- I'm supposed to be a virgin on my wedding night-"

He ignored her. His fingers – long and slim and cool against her flushed skin – were tracing around her opening. One finger slid inside and Bellatrix let out a strangled gasp. His finger felt so good, how amazing would other parts of him feel… no! No, she was meant to be pure, she wasn't supposed to enjoy this, not until she was married and it was her husband doing it to her.

But she found herself unable to stop enjoying it, found herself spreading her legs wider as she lay sprawled on her back on the table. Her fingers dug into the wood as the Dark Lord's hand worked skilfully against her.

He pulled her up to the edge of the table so that her legs hung over the edge, then looped her legs around his waist, pressing her slit against his body. She could feel his hard shaft brushing her through his robes and despite the chorus of voices in her head insisting that this was all wrong, she reached down to touch him.

The Dark Lord immediately grabbed both her wrists and jerked her arms above her head. Bellatrix gave a little yelp of surprise and he hissed in her ear, "Don't… touch… me."

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix whimpered.

"You do not touch me unless I give you permission," he told her. "Your hands are to stay off of me."

"Yes, my Lord…"

He released her wrists, then moved her back slightly and tugged the fastenings of his robes open, freeing his erection. Bellatrix felt a flush of heat that she had never experienced before, a sort of tingling and warming of her whole body, from her core outwards. She instinctively reached out to touch it – never having been with a man before, se had been unable to satisfy her curiosity as to what it felt like – but he had ordered her not to touch him, so her hands stayed against the wood.

Holding onto her hips, Voldemort rubbed his cock against her opening, then slid inside easily. There was little in the way of foreplay, but the mere fact that it was the Dark Lord doing this to Bellatrix had her aroused and ready. She let out a cry of pain as her virginity broke, but was instantly overcome by sensation and after a few minutes of gasping in pain, found herself trembling and letting out little mewls of pleasure.

"Aren't you sweet," he whispered. "So pretty and innocent even when you're being deflowered… you sound like a little kitten, purring like that…"

His voice was sensual and beautiful and Bellatrix arched against him in sheer pleasure. She had always been told that a girl's first time was unpleasant, but anyone who said that was wrong, as far as Bellatrix was concerned. She gazed up in sheer adoration at the Dark Lord. "Master…" She swallowed hard, and then whispered, "May I touch you?"

The Dark Lord's lips twisted into an amused smirk. "You may, Bella."

She immediately straightened into a sitting position, pulling her torso against his and clinging to his neck. He let out a soft moan as he sank deeper inside her, then grabbed onto her waist and set to thrusting hard- harder- harder-

One of his hands slid down between their bodies and set to rubbing hard against Bellatrix's tight, sensitive clit. She let out a moan of sheer delight, throwing her head back, all dignity forgotten.

"Don't come until I do," Voldemort hissed in her ear, much to Bellatrix's displeasure. Her body had tightened around her Master and she was on the brink of orgasm, but she forced herself to relax. His erection was stroking a spot inside her that Bellatrix had only ever barely managed to stimulate before and it felt too good for words.

She wasn't going to be able to-

"P- please, Master, I need to-"

The words were not even out of her mouth before she felt the Dark Lord's hardness break inside her. His hot release filled her body and that gave Bellatrix leave to let go. She moaned with pleasure as she contracted around him.

Upon completion, he pulled out, leaving her sweaty and panting on the desk.

"My Lord," she half-moaned, half-gasped. "That was- that was-"

He smirked at her, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.

"That was corruption, Bella," he whispered. "I have corrupted you, taken your virginity away, my little innocent."

Bellatrix shut her eyes in sheer pleasure as his cool hand stroked her face.

Corruption was sweet.