Chapter Nine
The scraggly faced man had barely finished when the stone door flew open.
"Leave," said an oily voice. In a painful moment, the dirty man grunted and removed himself from Ginevra. She rolled slowly to one side. But too soon, the new man was on top of her, closing his long sweaty fingers over her small throat. Ginevra gasped instinctively.
"Do you know what I heard today?" the man whispered to her as Ginevra tried again and again to loosen his grip. "My dear wife asked me about you. The ridiculous woman seemed to believe that my fellow Death Eaters have something to do with your disappearance. Now, how would a rumor like that get out?" he squeezed tighter with one hand and undid his pants with another. "You little bitch!" he slapped her suddenly with the hand that had just been struggling to push his trousers down.
The mark he left on Ginevra's face stung supremely with the icy air. She blinked, and then shut her eyes more tightly than ever before.
He shoved her legs apart.
He thrust himself in.
Something ripped in her; something popped in her hip.
He shoved and slapped and bit and tore her to pieces.
And then he was standing, pulling up his trousers and tightening his belt, smoothing down his hair.
She felt his eyes on her and then shriveled up to her bloody self to absorb the blow from his boot.
And as Lucius left, he pulled out the black ribbon holding back his ponytail and let it fall to the dungeon floor.
Narcissa strolled towards her huge bed in a long, blood red nightgown. The delicate black lace swept the ground around her feet and tickled her bare toes. The back of the nightgown was simply long thin lengths of silk which crisscrossed Narcissa's porcelain back.
She laid herself meticulacly on her bed, and awaited her husband.
He came into the room with his hair undone and a small scratch on his left cheek. By the time he was even with the end of the bed, Lucius had his shirt undone and was pulling of his cloak and trousers.
"Darling," Narcissa said in her most seducing voice, "Won't you join me tonight?"
Lucius stood for a moment, still as a statue. "No." he said most curtly. "I'm tired." And with that, he striped himself of the rest of his clothing and stepped into the master lavatory for a bath.
Narcissa plopped her head back against the thick pillows. Surely, she had lost all passion for this man. He was crude now, hardened by Azkaban. Not at all the man who had been tender and loving, though only to her. And now, Lucius wouldn't even lay with her!
Was he tired from fucking the blood traitor?
The thought slipped through Narcissa's mind like silk through one's hands. She lay, and imagined the horrors the young nineteen year old must have suffered so far. The Death Eaters now were just as ruthless as they had been when You-Know-Who was alive, yet now they lacked no real master. Lucius was somewhat of a leader but was just as eager as the others to torture and maim those he didn't like. Such as Ginny Weasley.
Lucius returned to the bedroom towel drying his hair. He had no problem being nude around Narcissa, even if he wasn't going to pleasure her. After doing so many things with her for so many years (willingly or otherwise), he had grown tired. The Weasley girl gave him so much more pleasure when she screamed and writhed. He had ultimate control. And her body was of course so much younger than Narcissa's and she lacked even control of that. Her plump tits and her tight center… so tight that he felt something shift within her just to make him fit. Narcissa was by no means comparable.
"Darling?" came a high-pitched voice. Lucius responded with a grunt. "Well, this… this Weasley girl. Do you think that someone could be keeping her? I know what you said at dinner, but really, rumours don't start without a tinsy bit of fact."
"All I know is that someone's involved. I'm not sure who though." Lucius paused, daring himself to just tell her the truth. "I suppose I heard something about Goyle, but he's so slow, he wouldn't know the difference between that girl and one of her elder brothers. Put it to bed." He finished smartly, ready to beat her if she raised the subject again. And Narcissa understood his silence.