A/N: Another drabble for another prompt challenge from The Death Eater Express. This is my first foray into writing something dark, so bear with me. Beware of triggers if you aren't into certain types of sex. And please, give me some love with some reviews!
"How did you hear about this place, again?" Antonin Dolohov looked askance at his best friend.
"Just trust me," Thorfinn Rowle smirked back at him.
The men stood outside a non-descript building in Knockturn Alley, Antonin staring at the sign that gave no hint of the type of business inside, wondering if he really wanted to go in. He lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag, exhaling slowly, looking to stall. The two wizards were on the outs with their Lord after turning up Obliviated last month. They'd come to in a Muggle café, and although there was no proof of what had occurred, the situation had Potter's Mudblood's signature all over it.
Their master had tortured them within inches of their lives for days, then showed how magnanimous he was by letting them live. Since then, they had not received a new mission, and each day felt a growing sense of dread that they were permanently at the bottom of the pecking order of Death Eaters, just a step above Fenrir and his pack of werewolves. The stress needed an outlet, and Thorfinn had come up with this; a night out at a club that catered to certain proclivities.
Antonin still regarded the sign – A Cursed Treasure – as he finished his cigarette in silence, with Thorfinn leaning against the brick wall on the side of the building, arms crossed on his wide chest, staring at him as the Russian made up his mind.
"This better be bloody worth it," Antonin said angrily as he ground out the cigarette below his heel before striding towards the door.
The blonde-haired wizard pushed off the wall to follow, saying, "It will be, mate."
They opened the door and found a small room with a gorgeous witch sitting at a desk. Behind her was a second door. She looked utterly bored, giving herself a manicure, nails being painted a shiny purple. She looked up and lazily drawled, "Password?"
Thorfinn leaned over and turned on his most charming smile, telling her in a husky voice, "Devil's Snare."
The witch rolled her eyes at him and Antonin did nothing to hide his bark of a laugh. Thorfinn was not used to witches doing anything less than fawning over him. The woman didn't say a word as the door behind her slid open. After Thorfinn passed her by, she gave a wink and lascivious smile to Antonin. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all.
Once inside the doorway, the thrum of music featuring heavy bass assaulted their ears and bodies. As the door slid shut behind them, Thorfinn leaned over and said loudly into Antonin's ear, "The exit is through the back wall of the loo, can't get back out the way we came in. Just put both hands on the tits of the woman in the poster there and the doorway will appear." Antonin nodded, not wanting to shout back over the din. He looked around, taking in the club.
The patrons were mostly male, although there were a few witches spread throughout the room. There were multiple stages set up with women on display for viewing pleasure. All of the women working there seemed to be in some state of nakedness, although some wore leather straps, or chains, or other accoutrements that did nothing to hide their most intimate bits. Antonin was already half hard, and he hadn't even gotten in for a closer look yet.
As the dark-haired man adjusted himself, Thorfinn leaned in again and chuckled in his ear, "Ready to admit I was right?"
The two wizards grabbed double-shots of fire whiskey before they walked around the cavernous room, taking their time to enjoy each offering. There was a woman on all fours, chest down against the floor, arse tilted up, with a large black magically-conjured cock working its way in and out of her rear entrance. Her flushed face was the picture of that point between pain and ecstasy. Another witch, with enormous tits, hung suspended from the ceiling. There were clamps on her nipples and clitoris. Every minute or so, her body would go taught and she would writhe in the leather straps holding her up. Then she would slump, breathing heavily. After the third time, Antonin deduced there must be some type of extremely strong vibration, similar to Muggle electricity, being sent through the attachments. Antonin couldn't quite decide if she was getting sexual pleasure from it or not. The third display they came upon had a blindfolded woman chained to the floor while another stood above her with a knife. There were thin rivulets of blood running down the chained witch's arms and calves. The blindfold meant the bound witch couldn't be sure when her captor was teasing her with the cold flat of the blade, not cutting at all, or gently running the sharp edge through the first few layers of her skin. After each touch of the knife to her skin, whether it broke through or not, the captive was rewarded by the large knife handle entering her quim for a few hard thrusts. There were probably another half dozen solo displays, catering to people who wanted to watch.
In addition, there were a handful of interactive displays. One, which did not appeal to Antonin at all, was a witch in the middle of circle drawn upon the floor that appeared to keep out the bodies of the wizards surrounding her, but not their bodily fluids, as evidenced by the amount of semen covering her. Around her were men wanking off in front of whomever cared to see, aiming onto her when they came.
As Antonin walked toward the next exhibit, he found himself thankful that Thorfinn was still by his side. He had no desire to witness his friend joining in on the last presentation. The performance in front of him caught his attention like none of the others had yet. A female audience member had been invited up to play, or rather be played with; the witch on the dais cast Lumos Solem to pinpoint her choice. The witch waiting up on the small round stage had leather straps crisscrossing her body, some of which highlighted her perfectly formed breasts, the nipples a beautiful rosy color and hard. The leather strips also wrapped around her waist, accenting how tiny it was and then moved down, and due to the wonders of magic, worked in a way to pull apart her bare pouty lower lips, leaving her fully on display. Her pussy glistened, showing how excited she was by her role tonight. Her hair and the upper part of her face were covered with a hood, permitting only blood-red lips to show, leaving her identity a mystery.
She held a cat-o-nine-tails whip in one hand and lightly beat it against her other palm, showing her impatience for her chosen victim to join her on the platform. The selected woman came up, with a look on her face that could be described as hesitantly lustful. Antonin's cock became rock hard when the dominatrix used a quick spell to divest her victim of all her clothes. The hooded witch stalked around her, assessing her, and then used the whip to caress her. The naked woman's eyes glazed over with pleasure and she gave a shiver. The dominatrix began to use the whip lightly on different areas of her upper body, across her shoulders and breasts. Her breasts where now a beautiful pink color and the nipples puckered in response to the stimulus. She moved down to the submissive's thighs, giving them attention before moving back up. When the first lash went across her arse, Antonin's trousers began to feel painful, and he thought he understood the other group of men seeking their release. Finally, the whipping moved around to the front, and the leather pieces caressed her swollen clit, causing the witch picked from the audience to came loudly, thanking her mistress. Antonin wanted to come, too.
He almost had decided to walk to the loo and either wank there, or leave via the hidden exit, in order to apparate back to his flat, when the mystery woman once again cast Lumos Solem, with the unbelievable outcome of the light hitting him. He needed to make a split-second decision on whether to accept or not.
Reluctantly, he shook his head and mouthed, "No thanks," to the witch. He turned away to leave, and he missed her lowering her hood to stare at his back with displeasure. Alecto Carrow shot a murderous look at the retreating figure of the man she was obsessed with, furious that she had been so close to getting her deepest desire. Thorfinn didn't miss it, though. He threw his head back, the roar of his laughter lost in the noise around him. He couldn't wait to get outside and tell Antonin about the curse he'd narrowly dodged.
Prompts used: Antonin Dolohov, A cursed treasure, Alecto or Amycus Carrow, Lumos Solem, Devil's Snare