Black Mail

Lucius Malfoy didn't mind it being said that he was obsessive. In fact, he was almost peacock proud of the neuroses. It ensured that he was ever elegant; his attire perfectly pressed and without a speck of…speck, his hair clean, smooth and glossy, his nails pristine and neatly trimmed (with proportionately sized moons on each finger) and never a blemish on his princely visage. Never. Not any blemish.

Blemishes were dealt with contiguously and with terse efficacy. He spent perhaps an hour before his mirror every morning, but the result was well worth the effort. He knew he looked perfect when he sat to a (now cold) morning tea across from his equally untarnished and exquisite wife.

"Sleep well, husband?" Her voice was perfect.

"I did, wife." He curled a corner of his paper to regard her. "Yourself."

She primly buttered a scone. "I did."

"Lovely."

"Indeed."

It was true they no longer shared a marriage bed, per se. And that was fine by Lucius. Terribly messy – bed-sharing. Too much tossing, turning and mucking up the bedclothes for his tastes, really. And sex, well… That was fine after a firewhiskey or two. And of course before one's bath. As agreeable as the act could be, one couldn't argue it was dreadfully…messy.

A fly buzzed the jam. Lucius made a moue of distaste.

"Good morning, master and missus!" His moue deepened. His sister-in-law was another dreadfully messy aspect of life. But…the Dark Lord wanted her at the Manor, and Lucius was hardly going to argue with a guest who could crucio him into oblivion with barely a wand tic.

"Yes, Bella." His wife's voice conveyed a tolerance she hadn't used since their son was thirteen.

Lucius merely grunted.

Bellatrix scraped her chair obnoxiously and huffed when she sat. "Yummy!" She crowed. Lucius rolled his eyes behind the Prophet. Following were the sounds of sloppy scone-preparation and ravenous mastication.

Occasionally, Bella spoke with her mouth full. "Anyfig ood in at?" She pointed to his Prophet with a jam-coated finger.

Lucius cocked a chilly brow at her. "Beyond the fact you are the most wanted witch in the world right now?"

Bella grinned. Scone tumbled out of her mouth. "You say the sweetest things, Lou." He gave an exasperated sigh. "Plans today, Cissy?" Bella slurped her tea.

"Shopping," Narcissa replied succinctly.

"Blughhh!" Bella winced. "Awful. What about you, you handsome devil?" Beneath the table, her foot nudged Lucius'.

He coughed. "I've some business in the study."

She blew a hearty raspberry. "What boring, stuffy twats you've both become."

"Yes, Bella," Narcissa replied automatically.

He suddenly remembered something. "Narcissa."

"Yes, husband?"

"Yes, husband?" Bella mocked his wife with a lolling tongue.

"Why not have Draco today?" Both witches regarded him with frozen, wide-eyed expressions. "He needs new shirts and trousers." The witches relaxed. "I'm tired of seeing all of his hems slip up when he moves. I swear, the boy is naught but ankles and wrists."

His wife let loosed a heavy, relieved breath. "Of course, darling." Bella chuckled.

A slapping sound approached in the hallway. All three diners looked to the solarium archway as the Dark Lord appeared there. They rose and bowed, murmuring morning solicitations.

Voldemort may as well have not heard them, at all. He yawned widely and waved them away as if they were the flies on the jam spoon. Absently, he scratched his arse through his heavy robes. Pausing behind Narcissa, he drew his wand. Lucius nearly ducked.

But all the Dark Lord did was summon a chair for himself. It glided over gracefully, and he settled into it with an odd shake of his bum. "Please," he wheezed finally. "Sit."

The original diners re-seated themselves and ate in silence.

"Are you done with that Prophet, Lucius?" Voldemort asked genially.

Obviously, Lucius was still reading it. "Of course, master." He handed over the paper.

"Fools!" It wasn't long before the Dark Lord was muttering obscenities to the headlines and knocking over the sugar bowl as he reached for the creamer. Bella stared at her master in wonder. When Lucius cast her a look of disdain, she winked coyly at him.

Movement in the archway caught their eyes, and Lucius saw his son there. Narcissa smiled at the boy and gestured to him, but Draco –seeing the Dark Lord at the table – backed away. Lucius pursed his lips and cleared his throat. "Son!" He greeted. If he had to suffer, so did the boy…

Draco's shoulders drooped. He trudged into the bright room. Voldemort didn't even notice the new addition. "Father." Draco nodded to Lucius. Lucius nodded back. "Mother." The boy bent and pressed a lingering kiss to his mother's pink cheek. She smiled even wider.

"Morning, little dragon," Bella cooed. Draco scowled at her.

Lucius cocked his head to the Dark Lord. Draco shrugged. Lucius made a pointed 'say good morning' sound in his throat. Draco swallowed, but bowed just the same. "Good morning, my lord."

Voldemort coughed and farted. If he knew he'd broken dark wind, he certainly didn't give a damn.

And while Draco may have been heir to the Malfoy fortune and the accomplished paramour to his own mother, he was still a teenaged boy. He snickered, and Narcissa snapped her fingers at him. He immediately sobered and looked at her. Her disciplinary lips turned into rather seductive lips. "Guess what," she said.

"You're a rotten little tosser with scat for brains." Bella took his guess.

"Mum!" He cried indignantly.

"Bella!" Narcissa scolded. "Such manners before our honored guest." Her ice blue eyes cut to the Dark Lord, still hidden behind Lucius' Daily Prophet.

"It's true!" Bella insisted.

"You sow-bellied, saggy-tittied –"

"Draco!" Narcissa scolded.

"She-wolf!" Draco finished anyway. Lucius smiled behind his napkin.

"Getting better," Bella muttered.

Voldemort reamed an ear-hole with a clawed finger.

When peace settled again, Cissa turned to her son. "Your father desires me to take you out shopping with me today, dragon. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Very nice, mother." Bella scoffed. Draco and Narcissa ignored her. "When do we leave?"

Cissa stroked her son's hand. "Oh, I suppose after you eat."

"I'm not much for breakfast, mother. I'd much rather eat…out. Later."

Narcissa flushed. Her nostrils flared. "I'll get my purse," she whispered, rising.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" Bella exclaimed. Draco gave her a triumphant grin as he followed Narcissa from the room. Bella slapped the table, "You pompous prig!" She leveled a gaze at Lucius. "Are you really so daft?" She asked. "Do you not think it's odd how they act?"

The Dark Lord snorted and laughed a quiet, maniacal laugh at something in the paper.

Lucius' eyes narrowed at his sister in law. "I think it's quite fine that I have a son who has a close relationship to his mother. I was not so fortunate."

Bella's frank and open stare did not abate. "You're saying you never got to fuck your mum, but you're okay with your son doing so?"

Lucius threw down his napkin and rose in a bluster. "You consistently make these… flagrant accusations toward my son and your own sister, Bellatrix, and yet I see no evidence to support any remonstration. I have come to believe your…" His voice lowered out of deference to their master. "Your appraisal of the situation is a product of your obviously deepening dementia. Good day, Bellatrix!" He gave a quick bow. "And good day to you, master."

Voldemort belched as Lucius swept dramatically from the room.

He took up hiding in his spacious study. It was strategically placed in the Manor's west wing, where very few ever tread. A wave of his wand parted the drapes, and Lucius dropped unceremoniously onto the chaise lounge. He sighed. It was exhausting – having the Dark Lord about. Having Bella about. He closed his eyes. Perhaps a nap would clear his mind before he reviewed his financial papers…

Bellatrix couldn't be bothered with clearing her mind. She found she rather liked the clutter. She'd endured a few more moments of being ignored by her master before wandering the grounds aimlessly. She was levitating a squawking peahen and meditating on life's unfairness.

Cissy hardly let her do anything remotely fun at the Manor. She only got to torture the occasional captive when the Dark Lord bade it. Well, it was a little better since she found out about the mother/son incest… Hell, it was much better, actually. "Least now I can go barefoot in just my corset whenever I feel like it." She muttered to herself, directing the bird a bit higher. It screeched louder.

Bella had never been above healthy Slytherin blackmail to achieve an end. Now if only she could get Lucius to part with a bottle or two of the really good firewhiskey…and maybe let her have a nicer room. They'd practically stowed her in the mouldy servants' quarters! Not that she minded mould… It was fuzzy and colorful.

A window banged open over her head and she flinched. Her concentration broken, the peahen sailed over the rooftop and out of sight with an elongated wail.

Lucius Malfoy glared down at her from his study. "You impertinent idle-headed giglet!" He shouted. "Leave my bloody birds alone or I shall hex you into a stote!"

Shite. He looked really angry. This is no way to get the good liquor. An apology was in order – one that seemed sincere. "I'm…" She gulped a breath. "I'm sorry, Lucius!" She yelled back. "I got…I got carried away! It won't - "

The window slammed and he was gone. "Git." She wandered on. Lucius was rather attractive when he was angry. Or perhaps the simple fact of him displaying an emotion beyond smug self-satisfaction was attractive.

She kicked a dirt clod. Or she was over-randy.

Or she was desperate.

She grimaced. Whatever the case, there was only one thing to be done about it.

His study door slammed open, startling him. "Merlin's pink pucker! Bellatrix!" He leaned forward on his desk, a hand over his heart. "What the devil do you want?"

Quietly and carefully, she closed the door and pressed her back to it. "I came to talk to you." She hoped it was a husky whisper.

But he looked…afraid. "About what, exactly?" Trepidation lengthened each word.

Swaying seductively, she approached his desk. "About us."

"Us?" He looked up at her, clearly nervous. "What about us? Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm not drunk, you blithering – " She took a deep breath. Calmed herself. "The fact is, Lucius… There is no us. And I think there should be." She began untying her already loose black corset.

"No – no – no us? I – I – I don't understand. What – what are you doing?" He was rather pink. When she dropped the corset, he licked his lips. She smiled. Yep. This wizard was hard up.

"I think it's fairly obvious what I'm doing." She zapped a locking charm at the door before placing her wand on his desk. She sauntered around it, undoing the clasp on her long, lacy skirt.

Lucius stared at a dark beauty mark near her navel. Her skirt dropped and his eyes traveled lower. "B-B-Bella…my wife…your sister." The rest became a mumble when she pressed his head into her stomach with both hands.

"Your wife my sister is out, I believe. And you are the master of this house, are you not?" His hands slipped almost reluctantly – almost – up the backs of her creamy thighs.

"Bella." His lips caressed her belly. "This is just…awful." He kissed her navel and squeezed her arse cheeks.

"As awful as not sharing a bed with your own wife?" He paused. Bella stroked his head sweetly. "It's alright, Lou. I know," she cooed. "Frigid cunt, isn't she, my sister?" He moaned helplessly and nosed the underside of an ample breast. "You deserve a proper pureblood fuck, don't you?"

He whimpered and tasted a mauve, pebbled nipple. Bella gasped. She was different in every conceivable way from Narcissa – fuller, thicker, bustier, muskier, huskier and just…filthy. He knew this: Bella was absolutely filthy. From her sinful mouth to her still-booted toes, she was filthy and hot and knickerless and his cock was near bursting.

She chuckled when he shifted in his chair. Her taloned fingers took one of his hands from her tits and slipped it low, adjusted his touch to sample her wetness. And she was very wet.

Lucius grimaced. He knew it happened, of course. He'd simply never…rubbed his fingers around in it. And it was…sticky. "Oh, sweet Circe," he muttered. He wanted to flick it off somewhere…

But then her fingers were in his hair, tilting his head back and her tongue was in his mouth. "Mmrmph!" He stood from his chair, sent it crashing to the floor. Her mouth tasted like tea and knives and nightmares. He couldn't escape it. She was unbuttoning his trousers, boosting herself onto his desk – onto his important papers – and then she stroked his bare erection and bit his tongue.

Lucius yelped into her mouth – a very strange sensation – and nearly came. He freed his lips. "By Jove, Bella!"

"Yes, Jove. Who the fuck ever." She answered mindless, tugged him harshly between her slick thighs and into…

His head lolled back and he groaned like a dying animal. "Fucking heaven."

"Yes!" Bella shouted. "Fuck me, Lucius – like you want to. Hard!"

He did. He absolutely couldn't prevent his hips from pounding into her, couldn't care about the sticky stuff oozing between them and onto his parchments, couldn't resist her mewls, squeals and delicious curses. She gnawed at his neck, growled and clawed. He reveled in it, felt his knees going weak from the pleasure curling in his swollen sac.

Bella felt his weakness, too. Like a striking snake, she shoved upward with her whole body. He staggered backward, gasping, just in time for Bella's foot to kick his chair upright again. As soon as his bare bum planted on the leather seat, she planted herself back on his angry cock and commenced riding him like she was charging into battle.

She wrenched him by the hair, making him face her. "You like this, Lucius Malfoy? Fucking your sister-in-law?"

"Yes!"

She snapped at his lip. "Call me mistress!"

"Yes, mistress!"

The stickiness was on his thighs, now, leaking onto his chair and even…splashing about. She rode him faster, coiling both hands in his long hair. "Yes, it's fun, isn't it? Having what isn't ours?"

"Yes, mistress!"

"Christ, Lucius. I think I'm going to come!"

"Yes, mistress!"

"Do you want to come, too?"

"Yes, mistress!"

"Say please, then."

He groaned defeatedly, then: "PLEASE, MISTRESS!"

Her pace increased impossibly. She was a burning blur, pulling his flaxen locks as she clenched and came apart around his cock. He came, too, like a Hungarian Horntail.

"Oh, oh, oh," she crooned. She kissed his forehead in a moment of rare tenderness, kissed a handful of his hair. "So lovely, Lou. So sweet." Another kiss to his hair. "It's as if my sister had a cock…"

From a post-coitus haze, he blinked. "Huh?"

"Nothing." She drew back and untangled her fingers from his cornsilk. She smiled triumphantly. "That was something, Lou."

He nodded bonelessly.

"How about a celebratory drink? Just the two of us."

"A bath, I think." He looked down in between them.

"Or that." Bella considered. "I know! You draw us a nice, hot bath…and I'll bring up a lovely wine."

Another dull nod.

She slipped off him briskly and dressed just as briskly. He was looking at the mess in his lap with a worried scowl. "I'll be right up, then, lover." Bella kissed his worried cheek. At the door, she paused and turned. "Oh! The password for the wine cellar. What is it?"

"Mm?" He looked up, the fingers of his right hand glistening. "Oh! Bacchus benedicte."

She blew him a kiss. "Thanks, Lou."

"Bella!"

She stopped with her hand on the door latch. "Yes?"

"You won't mention this, of course…to my wife. To anyone."

She looked back at him with a raised brow. "Why wouldn't I?"

He was aghast. "You warped and venemous – "

"Oh, I'll keep our little secret." She interrupted. "But don't think my silence is cheap." She turned to leave again, then paused. "And don't think you're off the hook, either. I am coming to join you in that bath. We're going to start working on some of your…issues."

"Issues?"

"Don't worry!" She called to him from the hallway. "It'll be fun!" She giggled as she scampered to the wine cellars. Fun, indeed. Change was in the air...

AN: Thanks to all my readers and especially my reviewers - you all rock! Thanks to the dragon for final word (I believe we all deserve a little 'infant' gratification once in a while), and to mastermilfoy for his wonderful suggestions. He's an acceptable husband.