Suffering For Desire

Chapter Two, The Fourth Day of Torture.

She awoke restless and tired, remembering fragments of the esoteric dream, flashes of Nymphadora lying in her bed spread eagled, tied up, writhing in pain and pleasure. Bellatrix knew what was happening, she was developing some sort of lust for Nymphadora, but she wasn't sure if she was willing to give into it. Although she was extremely satisfied with torture, she was never fully satisfied. Rodolphus was atrocious in bed, and he was never around anyway. As much as she wanted it, her Lord would never do that deed, he was too inhuman to experience the pleasures of the flesh.

Nymphadora had quite some trouble sleeping too, and it wasn't just the hours of endless torture she had endured the day before and the endless ringing in her ears from the screaming. In her dreams, flashes of Bellatrix on top of her, kissing her passionately, sliding her fingers in and out of- "No!" Nymphadora exclaimed. She was shocked, thinking about Bellatrix Lestrange like that. She knew she lusted for Bellatrix, but she wasn't weak enough yet to succumb, she was livid at what she had done to her in the past few days. She wouldn't be surprised if Bellatrix wanted the same thing from her, after all, everyone knew that woman was as mad as a hatter. Nymphadora was exhausted from all the stress of what she'd been going through the past couple of days so she fell back asleep on the mouldy mattress.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix got out of bed and looked in the mirror, examining her body. "Who could ever resist me?" she thought, looking at her perfect body, which was toned but not too much. She was pure ivory white, Bellatrix was never fond of the sun. Her eyes followed her stomach to her perfect breasts, which were full and voluptuous, porcelain just like the rest of her beautiful body. She got dressed into a black dress, with a knee high skirt with fancy ruffles at the back and an elegant wine coloured slightly overbust corset which highlighted her slim feminine curves and made her perky breasts show ample cleavage beneath the black low-cut top she wore under it all. She slipped on her knee high leather stiletto boots and strode down the hall towards the dungeon-like room that Nymphadora was being kept in.

"Get up!" she screamed at Nymphadora as she slammed the door shut. Nymphadora gasped as she snapped out of her pain-induced sleep coma, her ears still ringing and her whole body shaking from the bitter cold. She sat up slightly, propping herself up on her shaking hands. She looked frightfully pale and unhealthy, she hadn't eaten for three days. Bellatrix looked disdainfully down at her whilst blocking out the pang in her chest at just being near her, it saddened her a little. She, Bellatrix Lestrange, was not one for sentimentalism.

Looking upon Nymphadora's fragile, unhealthy state, Bellatrix walked quickly back down the hall after slamming the heavy bedroom door shut and walked into the large kitchen. A feeble, bald house-elf greeted her politely as she walked in (and to which she greeted back with a stinging jinx). She waved her wand and a packet of cigarettes appeared on the table, she took one out the packet and lit it up, taking a long drag. She picked up the Daily Prophet from the table and sneered with disgust as she looked at the front page's headline.

THE DARK LORD OF THE DANCE

The annual Magic Festive Ball held in the tiny wizarding community of Stumpsfordshire is proud to present a new main act performed by the Magical Theatre Arts professional dancers and a few renowned wizard actors and actresses. The director told us that this year, he will be making the usual faerie-tale theme a lot more dark. It is said it will be about You-Know-Who and his rise to power, a little mockery about the absurdity of an evil, powerful man striving to be a magical dictator in our modern wizarding society. The magical musical features Bert Grumble as You-Know-Who himself, Fenwick Hogarth as headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Miranda Giddifink as Bellatrix Les-

"FUCKING HELL!" she exclaimed as she slammed the paper onto the table. She was furious, they had managed to throw her in Azkaban for 14 years, reveal secret information about her family and now mock her and the Dark Lord in some tacky little wizard musical. Her and her family were already a laughing stock to most of wizarding Britain. But it didn't matter, they were wealthy, aristocratic and powerful and she didn't care about peoples opinions, she wasn't allowed to walk down the street without a disguise anyway. She threw the Daily Prophet in the bin, grabbed a loaf of bread and gave the trembling house elf one last threatening look before walking back to the decrepit room. She threw the loaf at Nymphadora, who was sitting up holding her side with a look of extreme discomfort on her face, she took the loaf next to her in her hands and quickly looked up at Bellatrix, who was looking down at her, but not as arrogant as she usually did. Bellatrix, looking at Nymphadora, had no idea what to feel.

She bolted the door again and left Nymphadora there, she had food and water. Returning to her room, Bellatrix undressed and put on a black silk dressing gown over her underwear, stubbed the cigarette out, grabbed a bottle of Fire Whiskey from the cabinet and sat at her mahogany vanity dresser, taking shot after shot, trying to block out her own perpetual pain. For an hour she sat to herself drunkenly staring into the mirror, talking, shouting, screaming, crying, mumbling to herself. After that, she lay on her bed, feeling so hollow, so empty, so cold. Her dark makeup smeared across her cheeks. She decided she needed a warm bath.

In the extravagant bathroom, she waved her wand at the grand hot tub-like bath and it filled instantly with hot water. She lit up another cigarette, took off her remaining robes and clumsily got in the bath. Exhaling with relief, she lay back in the water calmly, holding a straight razor, admiring it's sharpness and looking at her dark, beautiful eyes in the reflection of it's silver gaze. She put down the cigarette, and with a sharp cut she dragged it across her forearm, she wanted to feel this pain, she was tired of being numb. The blood seeped into the water, she felt dizzy. She put the razor down, lay back even more into the warm water and eventually, drifted off to sleep.