NOTES:
For RZZMG.This is my response to the following prompt:
PROMPT # 81
Kink: Forced Breeding
One to three pairings: Ginny Weasley or Katie Bell or Lavender Brown/any male Death Eater and/or Voldemort
Optional supplementary prompt: Voldemort wins scenario. Pure-blood Ginny/Katie/Lavender is to be continuously bred over the years to carry on the Dark Lord's glorious regime. Each child is taken from her and given to a pure-blood witch who can't conceive for whatever reason. Go as dark as you want. Would prefer the male to be either Draco, Marcus, Blaise, Rabastan, Snape, or Tom Riddle (or any combination thereof), but it's your choice as to who the father(s) of her children is/are.
submitted by: RZZMG
Of course, J.K. Rowling owns the rights to everything and I gain nothing from this but the enjoyment of sharing my imagination with others. :)
I hope my prompter will allow for some liberties. While all the pairings offered were het, when I researched characters Katie Bell was listed as a half-blood so I could not use her and it was very hard to find other pureblood witches among those we know followed Dumbledore. Yes, I could have used Luna, but I kind of thought Voldemort would look at her as defective or something because of her quirkiness and refuse to use her for breeding. So I included pureblood wizards in the forced breeding as well. My prompter also said "Go as dark as you want". Well even though this is a fairly short fic compared to all my other works, it is the Darkest stuff I have Ever written. It is exactly the story that came to mind when I saw the prompt and I Still want to ask my brain WTF?! Where did you come up with this shit?! LOL I truly, Truly hope I at least got the gist of what my prompter was hoping for and that they, as well as the rest of you Lovely readers, will enjoy the results!
The imposing throne dominated the room, the wood so dense and imbued with such dark magic that each of it's intricate carvings seemed to come to life before those who viewed it. The throne was an impressive piece of magic craft, it's sole purpose to highlight the absolute power of the wizard who claimed it. Lord Voldemort sat upon his throne surveying the hall and those assembled with an almost fevered excitement. Today was one of his favorite days, Breeding Day.
It had been five years since he defeated Dumbledore and his pathetic forces of Light. Five years in which he had spread his dominion throughout the magical world and beyond. He gave no thought to what happened to the muggles of the world. His sole focus, ever since his victory, had been the procreation and proliferation of pureblood witches and wizards throughout the world. Not only would his witches and wizards come to dominate the world in every way, they would all be loyal to him as their founder and leader. Breeding Day was a crucial part of that plan. Allowing for various cycles and gestations there were always a few ready for public breeding each month. Voldemort wanted everyone to see his plan in action. To know what he was doing for the betterment of witches and wizards everywhere, as well as the fate that awaited any who sought to oppose him.
Most would assume that he simply killed all those who fought for the Light during the war, and for many that was the case. However, many of the muggle-born witches and wizards were spared to serve other punishments, and as examples to others who might think to fight him in the future. But pureblood witches and wizards were far too rare a commodity. Each and every one that could be saved, even if it required healing, was spared to be put to use as part of his great design. His pleasure in his chosen forms of punishment for those purebloods who fought against him grew exponentially each year. Unlike murder there was no end in sight to the delight he felt at inflicting his will upon his enemies.
He surveyed the hall once more, taking in the sight of his most loyal supporters. The gallery on the upper level of the hall was filled with those who had come to view the spectacle. Every pureblood Dark wizard of fertile status, regardless of age, attended and contributed to insure that proper blood purity was maintained. Wizards who were married and fathering their own pureblood offspring, still did their duty at the event. No claims would ever be made on those children sired today for all belonged to Lord Voldemort to be distributed as he saw fit. Multiple donors assured that paternity would not be certain, only that the father was of pure blood. Fathers and sons alike attended the events together to do their part; Crabbe Sr., Goyle Sr., and Lucius Malfoy were but a few he could see conversing with their sons over drinks as they awaited the start of the activities. Dolohov, Flint, the Rabastan brothers, Carrow, Zabini, and others mingled as well. All took perverse pleasure in participating in their Dark Lord's punishments as well as the knowledge that they were contributing to a new empire of pureblood magic.
The signal came from the door of the hall and Lord Voldemort rose majestically from his throne, instantly calling the attendees to order. While everyone knew the reality of the forced breeding they were about to watch, Lord Voldemort insisted on maintaining the facade of a grand event for his subjects. "My valued servants, it is with great pleasure that I welcome you to another Breeding Day. Soon the latest in our new generation of witches and wizards will be conceived and you shall all bear witness to the purity of our new regime." With a wave of his wand, the doors to the great hall opened and the breeders were led inside. There were three this time; Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. Lord Voldemort did not hide his hideous smile. Forcing the pureblood wizards to breed was one of his particularly favored punishments. Severus brewed the most effective male fertility potions in the world and the young wizards were so amusing come breeding time.
Each breeder wore a thick leather collar bearing the crest of his personal household, for they were not allowed freedom from their breeding responsibilities until they were either infertile or dead. Each was covered in a full length black cloak as they were led forward to the three pillories stationed in front of the throne. Once in position, the cloaks were removed revealing each of them to be fully naked except for their collars. There were no concessions made for modesty here, all rights to such condescension were forfeited when the choice was made to defy Voldemort. Now they were nothing but his property, part of his personal stable of breeders, and such they would stay. They had been trained well over the past five years and did not struggle against their captors, nor beg for mercy from their punishment. Each knelt silently in the pillory when instructed while their ankles were secured, spreading their legs apart. Then their hands and collars were secured so they could do nothing but kneel on all fours and receive what was coming to them.
Lord Voldemort watched until all was in readiness and then resumed his seat to observe the breeders carefully. He always made sure they were positioned facing him so that he could see their eyes. He wanted to see when he finally crushed the rebellious spirit out of each and every one of them as they were forced to accept and carry the offspring of the forces of the Dark. It was infinitely diverting as each breeder had a different threshold of tolerance.
Brown's spirit had died with her last breeding. A particularly large baby, most likely sired by a Crabbe or a Goyle, had caused her untold pain during labor. The resulting tearing during birth and hemorrhaging afterwards had nearly ended her life, albeit, Lord Voldemort did make sure she was spared at the last possible moment. He attended each and every birth to witness the pain and suffering of his breeders, merely another aspect of their punishment. No pain relief was allowed at any time, no comfort given, and only those interventions required to assure the safety of the babies and survival of the mothers was allowed. His breeding stock was too valuable to lose, after all. When the baby was delivered and promptly handed over to a loyal pureblood couple to raise as their own while Brown struggled for life; that was the moment he saw her fighting spirit die. The pleasure of that moment never grew old for Lord Voldemort, each memory kept locked away as a talisman against all who would choose to defy him.
While Brown waited with her dead eyes and empty spirit, Weasley and Longbottom were another story. They both still looked upon him and dared to show defiance and malice. Voldemort looked about the hall and spied the red hair of Weasley's family seated next to Brown's family as well. Longbottom's family was either dead or incapacitated now so no one attended for him. It was another sadistic twist to his punishments, forcing the parents to come and view as their children were bred repeatedly. A vivid reminder of what their allegiance to the Light and encouraging their children to follow them had cost. The two Weasley twins and the younger brother were all bred last month and he made sure their parents were in attendance each and every time, even if they were brought here by force themselves. He merely smiled darkly to the witch and wizard before him as he instructed his followers, "At your leisure, gentlemen."
Drinks were put down and wizards moved forward; robes were removed and trousers were unfastened, the rasp of many zippers being released filled the silent hall. Weasley and Longbottom closed their eyes in an effort to mentally prepare themselves, even though they knew it was impossible, they had already endured this before. They were surrounded by wizards, cocks already in hands and stroked to hardness. If some chose to force the breeders to suck their cock, Voldemort did not care, as long as the valuable pureblood semen was deposited where it needed to be in the end. The urge to bite had long since been painfully trained out of the breeders themselves. No concessions were made for preparation either, this was a punishment after all and a bit of blood didn't stop fertilization. One after another each breeder was pierced with swollen cocks, any cries going unheeded as they were fucked ruthlessly until properly bred and filled with come. Lord Voldemort only required his loyal followers to breed once but most of the men took an exceeding pleasure in fucking all of the breeders, sometimes more than once. They often found fucking the males to be most amusing as the stimulation of the prostate aroused them whether they wanted it to or not. Lord Voldemort himself would join in the laughter if the males reached orgasm as they were unwillingly fucked over and over.
Lord Voldemort sat back, stroking along Nagini's length as he watched the proceedings. Each of these champions of Light had been successfully bred at least four times each already. Each child, a pureblood being, raised in the service of Darkness. None of his breeders were allowed to keep a child, nor bond with it in any way. He could not afford for his subjects to be tainted with any remnant of Light that remained. Those purebloods loyal to him who wished to raise another child or were not able to sire one of their own were "gifted" a newborn from the stables of their Lord himself, assuring their undying gratitude and loyalty. Many traveled from the far points of the wizarding world just to receive their child when it was born.
He looked back to his current breeders. Weasley was currently choking as Lucius Malfoy gripped her hair brutally and forced his cock down her throat. He had always had a particular dislike of the Weasley's and enjoyed every opportunity to use one of them for his pleasure. His son was shoving two fingers into her ass repeatedly, calling her whore and slut as he rammed his cock into her slick pussy which already dripped with the contributions of his fellow wizards. Voldemort rejoiced in the sadism and brutality of his followers even as he caught her eye and saw the spark still remained. Patience my dear, he thought. Her time would come, just like all the others who had given up. Longbottom did not fare any better as Carrow and Dolohov worked his mouth and ass. He watched as Dolohov spilled himself deep into the young man only to pull out and have Carrow take his place a moment later. He studied Longbottom for a few moments. Yes, the spark was still there but an air of fatigue clung to the young man, maybe another breeding or two and his spark would finally die. It was another form of personal entertainment, speculating about when each breeder would surrender at last to their fate and then seeing if he judged correctly. When would the dream of freedom and the hope of a life and family of their own finally be squashed to death by the life he forced them to live instead. Victory was rich indeed, and he enjoyed every last moment of his power over others to the fullest.
The breeding would continue for a few hours, allowing for refractory periods and rest before the wizards went round again. Voldemort found his thoughts drifting to other evenings held here in the great hall and the punishments he reserved for other traitors. Those muggle born witches and wizards he spared were enslaved to him just as the purebloods were, but they were not fit for breeding. Instead, they became his own personal harem, available for the pleasure of any witch or wizard on demand, at any time. A crucial component of feeding the Dark and its magic, that was too often ignored by others, was allowing witches and wizards to pursue their deepest darkest desires without consequence. Voldemort encouraged such passions regularly and the Dark grew in power accordingly. The slaves were sterilized so there was no risk of unwanted pregnancies and they were punished harshly for any act of defiance. While his breeders were valuable, the muggle born whores were not. A witch or wizard was not punished if their chosen diversion resulted in the death of whichever toy they had chosen to play with that night. They had complete freedom to act on their urges at will. However, there were a few whom Voldemort took pains to keep alive merely because he wanted them punished more so than others, and he would not allow an easy death for them.
Granger especially was never to be harmed beyond the healer's ability. Her insufferable intellect and magical talent was frequently an embarrassment to him during the war. If only she had been a pureblood, those same traits could have been bred into his new generation. However, as it stood, she was a particular favorite at the gatherings every couple of weeks. Those nights the Dark Lord invited any follower loyal to him, whether they be of low or high birth, to come and enjoy the pleasures of his harem in any way they saw fit. Oh, the exquisite pleasure he gained on those nights. Watching the muggle borns, male and female alike, be defiled and brutalized in various ways. Those nights fed his fantasies and the darkness of his soul. He made sure Granger was restrained directly upon the dais near him so he could see every moment of her debasement. Her particular spark was quite strong and he could never be certain how long it would take to break her. He would never defile himself by copulating with the filthy muggle born witch but he watched avidly each evening as she was whipped and fucked and used. At the end of the evening, when every orifice dripped with sweat, semen, and blood, he would stand before her staring into those defiant eyes. The very sight of her debased like that brought him a fearful arousal. He would jerk himself off and either shoot his load all over her face or force her mouth open with a yank of her thick hair and come down her throat, hissing as he forced her to swallow every drop. A reminder of who owned her body and life now. Then he would relish the terror in her eyes when he allowed Nagini to coil around her naked body and squeeze the air from her lungs until she lost consciousness. He found he could easily wait to see her surrender when the time came.
He soon was quite aroused from his memories as his thoughts returned to the present and the events before him, but he ignored it. There would be time to relieve himself later. The breeding had been underway for nearly two hours and every wizard had applied themselves with marked dedication to their duty. When the current set of wizards spilled themselves into their respective receptacles, he raised his hand, silently halting the proceedings. "My friends, you have all performed admirably. Go home and enjoy a fine meal and your well earned rest." The wizards bowed, stepping back from the pillories and making their preparations to leave. The keepers were waved over to tend to the breeders. Each was fitted with a plug in order to retain as much semen as possible during the trek back to their quarters, before being removed from their restraints and recovered with their cloaks. Each would be confined to their beds tonight to allow for proper fertilization and in the morning the medi-witches would verify the latest pregnancies. Lord Voldemort sighed, content with the success of today's events. He waited while the breeders were taken out before bidding farewell to his followers and dismissing the gallery.
Now he had his own personal matters to attend to.
{*} {*} {*}
Lord Voldemort entered his personal chambers, sealing the doors behind him. Dinner was waiting on the table by the fire but he was much too excited to eat. Breeding Day always left him aroused and ready to sate himself with his own personal war trophy, but today would be even better than usual.
He entered his bed chamber and found his prize, naked and waiting upon the massive bed. The one war trophy he kept only for himself and never shared with any of the others. The collar was secured by a short chain to the headboard, while the wrists and ankles were cuffed and chained also, loose enough to allow movement but secure enough to prevent escape. A thick gag was firmly in place as his pet could get very vocal and as yet had resisted the training against biting. His prize was strong and quite stunning and he never got over the intense pleasure he obtained from taking his personal toy over and over. He allowed his robe to puddle in the floor, leaving him naked and erect as he began to walk slowly around the bed taking in the view. His toy dozed lightly on the plush pillows but the graze of sharp nails up the inside of the leg brought the dark head up sharply. Voldemort allowed himself the mockery of a smile when he met the fiery gaze of those emerald eyes. So much spirit in his prized possession. He stroked his fingers over the firm jaw, down the still muscled chest, across the tense abdomen until he reached the thick cock resting in its nest of curly dark hair.
"I see Snape's potion is working well my pet." He stroked lightly along the shaft and chuckled darkly at the hitch in his pet's breath. The eyes closed and the dark head turned to the side, unable to hide the flush of embarrassment and arousal from his master. As aroused as he was, Voldemort did love to prolong the inevitable just to torment his pet a bit more. He continued to stroke lightly since he knew there was no way to fight the effects of Snape's potion.
"I've bred your little Weasley again today." The dark head jerked back and the emerald eyes blazed with fury again. Anger huffing out with each ragged breath. Voldemort just basked in the hatred as he whispered further torments, "Your little… Ginny. You should see how well she takes a cock, my dear. But rest assured pet, that will be the last thing you will ever get to see or experience." The young man remained silent, merely gritting his teeth against the gag and turning his head away once more, as if that would make any difference.
Voldemort only smiled as he allowed his free hand to smooth over the taut abdomen, his other hand never stilling on the hardened cock in his hand. "Now it's your turn, isn't it, pet? Snape's potion has done it's job and made you… " he leaned down, licking a long strip up the tense neck before he breathed out his next word, "Ripe. I can smell how fertile you are now pet, and the bit of aphrodisiac Severus adds to your brew makes this so much more enjoyable. You can't help but get off on me taking you and that," he tightened his hand on the sensitive cock until his pet whimpered, "That makes me even harder. Makes me want to fuck you even more." Those emerald eyes were focused on him once more and now he saw the flicker of fear behind the defiant glare.
He climbed onto the bed, taking his position between those muscular thighs. He hooked his hands under both knees, spreading his pet wide as he yanked the naked ass closer. He met those eyes again, "Now pet, don't look at me like that. You've given me four perfect pureblood children already and this time will be no different." Without another word or preparation, he shoved his swollen, weeping cock into his pet, bottoming out in one thrust, his balls thumping against the upturned ass. Relishing the cries of his pet behind the gag, he pulled out and thrust home again, taking the tight ass over and over. He would spend all night fucking his little pet, well past the necessity of doing so to ensure he got him pregnant once more.
Harry Potter, the Golden Boy of the forces of Light, strained against his restraints and could not stop the raw cries escaping from behind his gag. No matter how many times it happened, the humiliation and horror never changed. He could do nothing at all as the Dark wizard he fought with all his might, fucked him over and over. He was powerless to fight the potion that coaxed his body to respond, forced him to find pleasure and release in his torment. Powerless as his new master bred him and forced him to bear and birth his own children. Death would have been far too merciful. This, was his price for failure, condemned to be the Dark Lord's fuck toy and brood-mare for the rest of his life.
Lord Voldemort, ruler of the pureblood regime, master of the Dark, bathed in sinister glee at the cries of his pet. His thrusts now eased by the blood his unprepared entry brought, he moved faster and harder as he sought his release. He stroked the swollen cock before him, assuring his pet the humiliation of orgasm while he was bred. As he reached his climax and spilled deep into his favorite toy, he thought of an old expression he had heard somewhere once before.
"To the victor go the spoils."
Voldemort's laughter echoed throughout the chamber and beyond.
Indeed they did, he thought with dark humor, Indeed. They did!"
Author's Note: Thanks to ALL who have taken the time to read this story. Feedback is Always appreciated! Rest assured it would not be Nearly as enjoyable for you the reader if my Illustrious beta Spades did not come willingly when I dragged her into this Wild ride! Continous Gratitude for all her time and efforts, proofing, editing, making suggestions and not even judging the depravity of my mind! ;) LOL None of this would be Nearly as much fun without her! Please Enjoy folks (well as much as you can enjoy a dark and twisted fic)! HAHAHAHAHA! Sincerely Cynthia