Chapter one: A slave found
He sat at the head of a long, polished table, peering around at his followers. A large snake, large enough to swallow a fully grown man slithered and wrapped herself around his shoulders. Those whom were seated around the table dared not even a glance at the man at the head, if a man is what one could call him. His face thin, pallid, and seemed to emanate an eerie glow within the scantily lit room. With deep set scarlet eyes, his nose, mere slits and a mouth whose lips so thin were one would not have even known to be there upon a quick glance. Voldemort was his self fashioned name, though no one dared to utter it. Cruel and merciless was he; he whom favored power and only the purest of blood. "Bring in the first batch" Voldemort hissed to a rather stout, watery eyes fellow. "y-yes m-y lord" the man stuttered and briskly left the room. Returning a few moments later, dragging with him a group of shabby, rather beat up looking men and scantily clad women, all of whom were forced none to gently to their knees. Voldemort rose from his throne, glided over to the group, drawing his wand as he did so. "WORMTAIL!" he barked to the watery eyed man; "Have I not given you clear enough instruction?" Wormtail, in sheer panic bowed clumsily and groveled "Yes, my Lord, forgive me my Lord". "dispose of these men, whom dare call themselves our equals, for I have no use for them" Wormtail drew his wand, and without hesitation killed the man with a flash of green light. At that moment, cries and sobs from the women rang out and echoed throughout the room. "ENOUGH" hissed Voldemort. "Too long has this world been contaminated, too long have muggles had power over us; kept us in hiding. It is time; time to cleanse our world of this mold that grows rampant". Many seated around the table exchanged gleeful, knowing looks; some even chuckled. It was then it seemed, that the women finally understood the fate that awaited them, for most shook with sobs, some; tried to run, but were dead before they hit the floor. Raucous laughter could be heard from those present, it was all but a game to them; the women, merely toys. Voldemort's eyes scanned those who remained; these pathetic whores; weeping, as if their tears could sway him from his motive. All wept, but for one, he noticed. How strange, how… infuriating! The little bitch! Did she not understand? Did she not know? Voldemort raised the girls face with the tip of his wand under her chin. "You, girl; what do they call you?" He hissed; the girl merely stared into his merciless eyes, blank, without any emotion were they; as if no one was home. "It would seem, this little whore is already broke" Voldemort muttered more to himself than to anyone else. "Severus, come and take a look, tell me what you see". The man called Severus rose from his seat, strode over to the girl, grabbed her face in his hand roughly; and made her stand and look at him. His face sallow and pale, his nose large and hooked his hair a slick greasy black mass which hung to his shoulders. But his eyes, his eyes; it was as if she were drowning in a sea black nothingness. She could not read him, for his face bore no expression. As he looked her over, poking and prodding her, turning her around; he noticed a flash of defiance in her. Interesting he thought to himself, perhaps she is not as broken as the Dark Lord supposed. Severus turned to Voldemort and spoke, "permission to inspect this… specimen further my Lord?" Many seated around the table jeered, and laughed. Voldemort, with the hint of a smile, nodded; a flash of interest in his dead eyes. Severus grabbed her roughly, hoisted up her skirt (what was left of it) and made her bend over. Ah, such a pretty little pink flower, and her ass… so round and plump he thought. He felt his cock twitch and stiffen. How was it that such a vile creature could affect him so? She was FILTH, a muggle! But alas, a very pretty muggle she was. Her hair was auburn and hung to the small of her back in loose curls; her eyes; hazel with tiny gold flecks. But it was her stature that effected him so, for she was extremely petite, standing at just five feet; he guessed. Her skin was tanned, a deep rich olive color. She was, he thought, truly exotic. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upright. Watching as tears sprang to her eyes. "She is not broke, my Lord, merely playing dead. Like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf". Voldemort thought for a moment, then said "Severus, you have been a most loyal servant and I, being a most gracious Lord should like to gift her to you, should you be so inclined to accept". Whispers swept through the room, but only one; bold (or ignorant) enough, Severus could not decide; spoke up. "My lord, I too have been loyal, I should like to have the girl; perhaps, add her to my… collection?" the man who spoke, a shorter man, with long graying hair pulled back in a braid down his back; eyed the girl with Lust. "Silence, Yaxley" Voldemort ordered; Yaxley shrank back and fell mum instantly. Severus thought for a moment, what, with the school year looming he would no doubt be busy planning lessons and grading redundant papers. But… his bed could use some warming, and he would love to take her. Yes… yes, he would take her; own her. His very own pet and no one else would have her. "Yes, my Lord, I could use this pretty little bitch, if nothing else; but to keep my bed warm and my needs sated. She of course would need rigorous training". Voldemort smiled, whilst Yaxley scowled at Severus; disdain evident on his hard face. "Then, she is yours Severus, use her well" hissed Voldemort. And so it was, the girl was gifted to a man she did not know. Severus waved his wand, as he did so; shackles locked themselves onto her wrists, along with a lead. Severus grabbed the lead, bowing to the Dark Lord, and dragged his new toy with him.