Bellatrix admired herself in the mirror. It was the night that she was to be marked as a Death Eater, and she had never felt quite so beautiful. Her black curls were piled on her head, a few graceful strands falling down to frame her face. Her cheeks glowed pink with excitement, and her eyes looked almost unnaturally bright. She was up in one of the Manor bedrooms, as the Dark Lord had ordered, and was hoping that he would join her. She wouldn't have objected to being made love to before being marked…

The Dark Lord entered the room, and examined her, a slight smile on his lips.

"Lovely," he said. "Your robes are in the trunk, at the foot of the bed."

Bellatrix's face fell. She was wearing her favourite dress, and didn't much care for the idea of being marked while wearing strange clothes. It felt as though that would throw things off, just a little too much.

"Robes, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said, in a tone that made it perfectly clear there was to be no arguing.

"Yes, my Lord."

She knelt, and opened the trunk, expecting to see a set of black robes like those she had always seen the Death Eaters wearing. But instead, folded before her, was a white garment. Bellatrix looked at her Lord questioningly.

"White?"

"Quite so, my Bellatrix." He moved over to her, rested a slender hand on the back of her neck. "By the end of the night, they will be black with your sins."

Bellatrix stood up, unfolding the clothing so she could get a better look at it. There was a dress, simply cut, and a cloak to wear over it, both in a white so very bright that it hurt her eyes to look at it. She looked at her Master through lowered lashes, a mischievous smile on her face. "Undress me, my Lord?"

"You are too bold, my Bellatrix," he said, letting his fingers caress her jaw, before running lightly down her windpipe. "If any of my other followers spoke so boldly to me…"

"You would punish them," Bellatrix finished. Her heartbeat sped, and she felt almost delirious. She was treading on thin ice, she knew, but the danger was intoxicating. "Will you punish me?"

"Bellatrix, we have scarcely an hour before the ritual begins. There is little time for any punishments."

"An hour is a long time," she purred. "Plenty of time for you to punish me for my rudeness…"

"You are so eager," the Dark Lord commented. He put his hand against her breast, brushing his thumb against her erect nipple. "You will be put through plenty in the course of the ceremony, you realize, my Bellatrix?"

"I know, my Lord," she said breathlessly. "We could… practice…"

He considered her, then, without warning, spun her around and slammed her face-first into the desk at the side of her room. Bellatrix cried out in surprise, and was silenced by a wrench of her hair. An incantation, and her wrists were bound together, stretched above her head against the desk. Her entire body was bent over at the waist, so her torso was flat against the surface.

Bellatrix's skirt was wrenched up, bunched around the waist, and she felt a hard slap across her backside. She groaned with pain and masochistic delight, and she was slapped again, even harder this time, hard enough to leave a mark.

She loved this, being dominated so completely by him. It was wonderful, and though she could not see him, she knew that the Dark Lord enjoyed it too, enjoyed showing how much power he had over her, that he could make her bend over and spank her like she was a naughty child, and make her beg for more…

He drove two long, slim fingers inside her, then pulled them out and smeared the wetness across her arse when he hit her again. Bellatrix spread her legs apart, mentally urging her Lord to take her, right there on the desk.

The smacks to her backside stopped abruptly, the Dark Lord had apparently grown tired with spanking his servant. He used his fingers to spread her lips open, and she felt the tip of his cock rest against her opening.

"Yes," Bellatrix whispered breathlessly. "Yes, take me, punish me, take me hard…"

The Dark Lord needed no further urging. He thrust hard up into her, and Bellatrix shrieked at his roughness. It felt good, so good, and she tilted her hips to try to force him to push against the most sensitive spot. The force was arousing, and she always performed better at spellwork after sex. Now if she could just climax-

As though he had read her mind – which, she reminded herself, he might have – the Dark Lord whispered, "Don't come, my Bellatrix." He punctuated the words with a particularly violent thrust.

She whimpered, and forced herself to stay calm, not to react. He worked hard against her, and, as though to strain her self-control even further, reached beneath her to work her breast with one hand and massage her clit with the other. He was amazing, and it took every ounce of restraint Bellatrix had to stay in control, not let herself go…

The Dark Lord groaned, and climaxed into her. Bellatrix clenched her teeth, tightened every muscle in her body against the need to come. He panted for a moment, then pulled out, leaving her still against the desk, skirt up, gasping with intense want.

"Master," she groaned, "please, pleasure me, I need-"

"I've done all I care to for the moment," he said, and Bellatrix hated how dispassionate his voice sounded. "I've no wish to bring you any more pleasure."

"But-"

He pulled her skirt back down, and untied her. Bellatrix straightened, turned to her Master. Her face, she knew, was contorted with her desire. The Dark Lord appraised her, smiled mirthlessly. "Oh pet, is it really so bad?"

She nodded, swallowed hard and looked down. Rodolphus did the same thing to me when I was first ordered not to lie with him, don`t you remember?

The Dark Lord rested two fingers beneath her chin, lifted her head so she was forced to look him in the eye.

"I'll make it up to you, my Bellatrix," he breathed. "You'll have your pleasure when the ritual is over."

"Yes Master," murmured Bellatrix. "As you say, of course…"

He set to unlacing her corset, laid it aside and stripped her naked, fondling her breasts and stroking every inch of skin. Bellatrix moaned, enjoyed his touch. He slipped the white robes onto her, and admired the effect.

"So pure," he said. "Innocent. And before the night is over, you will be nothing but sin."

He knotted his hands in her hair and kissed her hard.

"My Bellatrix," he whispered roughly. "My beautiful pet, you will be the jewel of the Death Eaters."