A/N: Contains sexual content. Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.
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Click. Click. Click. Click.
I had accomplished my goal; so why did I feel more vulnerable and weak than I had before this endeavor began? How could I, the greatest wizard of all time, have been reduced to quivering mass of flesh by some meaningless Muggle harlot. And worse yet; why could I not stop thinking about her?
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This new form was still human despite its magical, sinister birth; it still had human needs and human desires. It was still pathetically weak, and for that I despised myself. How could I have achieved such power and yet still possess such primitive cravings? Originally, I had attempted to deal with these carnal urges myself. This solitary method was satisfactory for a time and produced a sense of control over my feeble body. However, self-pleasure was so plebian, and soon I felt my body craving something more… substantial. My illusions of control faded.
As The Dark Lord and leader of the Death Eaters, I, of course, had many women at my disposal should I choose. I could have easily relieved my discomfort with any or all of them, and I occasionally considered such options. Narcissa Malfoy had often caught my eye, tall, graceful, and enchanting, but the fear in her eyes was revolting. Fear was more alluring than the power-hungry reverence I found in Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes, however. It should not have surprised me, I suppose; I would worship me too.
No; I could not bring myself to satisfy my compulsions with those sorts of females. I deserved better. I needed a woman without judgment on me if I were truly going to succeed in this endeavor. That woman would be difficult to find, but I must locate her… and soon. These urges were beginning to cloud my perspective. I could not afford to appear weak. Not now. Not when all my plans were finally actualizing. No; I must keep this hunger at bay, even if that meant giving in to it.
It did not take long for me to realize that the woman I sought would have to be Muggle; any witch would have ulterior motives for wanting to be with Lord Voldemort. This fact further complicated her acquisition. Fortunately, other humans were plagued with the same temptations and longings as I. I would simply do as any Muggle male seeking physical release with an anonymous partner would; I would go to London's less reputable districts and find myself the ideal female available for the proper sum. I hated having to stoop to the level of an ordinary Muggle, but desperate times…
In theory, this process should have been simple, but as I walked through the red-light district dodging propositions from women just as desperate as I was (albeit for very different reasons), I realized I had high standards. As before, I could not get past the looks in these women's stares; fear, disgust, misery, emptiness repeated over and over again. Why I cared, I will never understand. Perhaps I should have attempted to appear a little less like myself, or a least I could have traded the robes for a jacket. I made a mental note to do so in the future.
Then I saw her. Actually I should say, I saw it, as it was the curiosity that filled the bright stare that caught my attention long before the owner of the green eyes ever did. Not that I was at all disappointed once I did take in her silhouette.
She was young and bit too thin, but the tight black corset she wore more than made up for her lack of natural curves, and what did her age matter to me really. My lips curled into a slight smile as I noticed the Slytherin-green colored patch in her odd, asymmetrically styled, dark hair. She watched me behind her black-rimmed eyeglasses as my eyes traveled down her body across the short green skirt and past her salacious black boots. She was just the sort of girl Tom Riddle would have chosen. He always did have excellent taste when it came to females. Luckily for me, he also had vast experience with them as well.
Yes, she would do perfectly. I extended an arm, and she locked hers with mine as we walked silently down the cobblestones, her impossibly-tall heels clicking loudly.
I led her to the hotel room down the street which I had previously arranged for the occasion. She closed and locked the door behind us in a smooth, quick movement. Clearly, she had done this before.
She approached me slowly. Her hands touched my body as her eyes locked with mine. I searched them for any reason not to continue with this encounter and found nothing. I then felt ill as my body started to respond to her expert fingers. I was the most powerful being on this planet, and yet I trembled beneath the touch of this insignificant Muggle woman. Pathetic.
I was unable to dwell on my despair for long as she began relinquishing me from my clothing. She was obviously not paid by the hour. She began to unlace the corset, and her skirt was already on the floor as she pushed me onto the hard mattress. She licked her lips slowly, and I took in the vision of her nude form. She would be worth ever penny.
I laughed to myself as she crawled to straddle my body, her boots still in place as she slipped a condom into its proper place with her mouth. The sight made me groan aloud, which caused her enchanting eyes to lock onto mine as she continued to tease me with her incredible soft flesh.
If I did not know better, I would have sworn the whore was reading my mind. But it was likely just experience that told her to keep the footwear in place, to whisper dirty thoughts into my ear, and not to try to kiss me as her petite frame sunk down ever so slowly onto me. I groaned aloud again as I indulged in the moment, and she instinctively knew to pause to allow me such pleasure.
"How long has it been?" She whispered against my ear sending a strange sensation through my body. She flashed a depraved smile.
"Too long," I moaned as she moved against me. Yes, this is what I had been craving. Yes, I could feel the tension lift from my body and the fog in my mind fade as we continued moving against one another. Yes, each thrust was more intense than the last as she demanded more from me in a low licentious voice. YES! Unfortunately, the entire process was over much too quickly, but I felt fully satisfied. Finally.
Sex was even better than I remembered.
She stood with a smile and disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing her clothing on the way as I watched her form sway. I replayed our encounter in my mind; the sights, the smells, the sounds, and the incredible sensations were as powerful the in my memory as they had been in reality. I had forgotten the post-orgasm high. No wonder these needs were so demanding; like the Devil's Snare, the harder you struggle, the tighter its grip. There must be a better solution than giving in..
Again, I felt ill. I, of all people, should be above these sorts behaviors. I should have more self-control. Why was I so weak?
Moments later, she emerged looking exactly as she had before our encounter. She tossed me a towel with a quick smile, and I realized I had not moved since she had left me. I was still a mess sweat and other fluids I cared not to think about. I covered myself with the towel and looked up at her as she stood beside the bed. She was obviously waiting for her payment. I reached into the pile of my garments on the floor a pulled out two £50 notes. I was quite positive it was more than her usual rate, but she did not let on any hint of surprise, nor did she offer up any change.
Instead, she smiled and grabbed it quickly sticking the notes into her right boot. "I was half expecting galleons" She winked and turned quickly on her tall heel as her words sunk in to my thoughts. "Don't wait so long next time, my mysterious, dark friend." The door clicked shut, and I listened the sound of her footsteps down the hallway.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! This is still in draft stage so I would LOVE some constructive criticism.
