Dinner that evening was a subdued affair for the Death Eaters. Lucius and Draco were in attendance, Narcissa sending her regards through them; she was unwell. She often preferred to forgo meals with the Dark Lord, but he allowed it as long as she otherwise performed her duties. Rookwood had sauntered in, drawn no doubt by his pet's presence. Surprisingly, Theodorus and his son had joined as well. While the boy was not among his inner circle, nor even among his troops (he was not yet of age and his father was protective over the late-in-life heir), he was a good friend of young Draco. Severus was the last to join them.
"Eight, so close to the perfect magical seven," Voldemort said, taking his place at the head of the table. "I could not dismiss any of you, though. This is quite the balanced table."
"Eight, my lord?" Dolohov asked as his eyes lingered on Elena.
He'd pulled the woman onto his lap once more, taking full advantage of her company. "One does not count pets, Antonin. Not even those one might feed scraps at the table." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Have we not had this discussion before?"
Antonin half-hid his answering smile.
"Lucius, you disapprove?"
"Your pardon, my lord," the stiff man intoned. "I am unused to seeing women in such a position."
"Would it help if I told she is a halfblood?" he offered. "And that somewhere in her twisted little soul, she enjoys it. She agreed to play tonight, didn't you, pet?"
Her only tell was the flex of her jaw. "I did, my lord."
Lucius practically squirmed in his seat and poor Draco kept flitting between his father and Voldemort and his godfather, trying to discern the appropriate expression. Voldemort chuckled and his reluctant host flinched. "Calm down, Lucius. I'm hardly going to fuck her over the table at dinner." As the meal appeared before him, he took turns taking bites for himself and feeding Elena. It was amusing to see her trying to retain her dignity as she took dainty nibbles from his fork. He had insisted on fruit for dessert so he could have she take the food from his fingers.
"Such an obedient thing," he murmured as she took a slice of melon between her teeth. "You see, Draco, Theodore, you can have women eating out of your hands if you are powerful enough. And no one would dare gainsay you." He practically purred as he smiled at Lucius and then returned his attention to the two youths. "You could even have that little mudblood leashed. Granger, is it? I know you have a certain interest in her, Draco." At the boy's blush, he added, "No judgement here, my boy. If you want a mudblood pet, why ever not? The juice, sweetheart." Her cheeks flushed as she licked the rivulets from his hand.
As dinner disappeared, the dishes along with it, he allowed Lucius to take his leave. It saddened him to see how weak Abraxas' son was, and Lucius was by far stronger than young Draco. He would have to do something to shore up the Malfoy line. Perhaps gifting the Granger mudblood to Draco would foster more cruelty in the boy.
Theodore and Draco removed themselves together from the table, leaving only four of his Death Eaters in his presence. Nott, Dolohov, Rookwood, and surprisingly, Severus. Voldemort waved and the table pushed itself against a wall, leaving them a nice little seating area around which to drink and talk.
"Your son seems bright, Theodorus," Elena said at last. He'd commanded her to keep quiet during the meal and not interrupt the conversation of her betters.
"Thank you, Elena. He's a good young man, I think." Nott swirled the wine in his glass, smiling at his old friend even as he noted the possessive way his lord's hands roved over her.
Voldemort grinned and held his own wine for his pet to sip. "If you're uncomfortable, you may leave, Theodorus."
"My lord, I have not seen Elena in some time. I would prefer to stay, if you will allow it."
"On your own head be it then," he responded with a shrug and drained his wine. Dolohov served him more, his dark eyes never leaving the woman on his lord's lap. "And you, Augustus?"
"I'm quite fine with the show, my lord," man said.
"Severus?" he asked. "I already know Antonin would like nothing more than to watch me break and reshape my little doll here, unless he was permitted to join in himself. I didn't think you shared our appetite for cruelty."
"I'm curious, my lord," Severus said coolly. "About Madam Mullens herself. I have heard that name before."
Voldemort nodded, traipsing his nails along her various scars. "She considered Dumbledore her friend; perhaps the old codger mentioned her." The headmaster nodded in response, still watching her, and the Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "You and Nott can both be disgusted by my behavior toward her then," and he sank his teeth into the meat of her throat just under her jaw.
She gasped and her back arced away from him before one steely arm pulled her flush to him. He worried his teeth into her until he could taste that wonderfully familiar copper against his tongue, suctioning his lips to her then and sucking. He opened his red eyes and took in his Death Eaters, Rookwood and Dolohov both watching with various amounts of amusement and arousal, Severus trying not to avert his gaze from what he found distasteful, and Nott staring at his drink.
Voldemort pulled away, licking the blood from his lips. He replaced his mouth with a hand, thumb smoothing over the ragged skin and smearing her blood over her flesh. "Enjoying yourself, pet?"
Her face had already settled back into complacency. "As much as I can, my lord." He smirked, well aware she could feel how much he enjoyed having her there. He slowly undid the rest of the buttons of her blouse, stroking his hands to part of the material and dance along the length of her stomach. "If you're not going to enjoy yourselves, go elsewhere," he commanded. When no one moved, Voldemort raised his eyes from his toy. "Theodorus, Severus. Leave."
Theodorus hesitated but stood. "As you command, my lord. Good evening. Elena," he said with a nod. Severus only murmured, "My lord," and followed at Nott's heels.
"Shall I see just how much our pet is appreciating my indulgence?" he asked the two remaining men. Antonin nodded and Rookwood smirked. He leaned back, the arm pressing her to his chest lengthening her body and making it easier for Voldemort to tug her skirt up. He pulled thighs to rest outside of his own and his long, spindly fingers slid beneath her knickers and dipped into her core. He hissed and withdrew them to display the slickness on his fingers. "My, you have learned to bluff well, haven't you, pet?" Voldemort laid the fingers across her lips, brushing her wetness across them. "Lick." Her tongue darted obediently, not a hint of shame or embarrassment. "What would it take, I wonder, to get a blush out of you?" He studied her still features. "You haven't much experience with men. Perhaps if I fucked you here before Antonin and Augustus and then allowed them a turn? Hmm?"
Her eyes widened, jaw clenching even as red flushed her cheeks. He smiled slowly.
"Mmm. There it is." He sucked some errant blood from his thumb and gazed at his followers. "Her cunt is as tight as ever. Would you like to see how she comes when I hurt her? I have no doubt it's as lovely a sight now as it was before."
Her docile composure snapped. "Must you be so crude?"
Voldemort graced her with a kiss to the corner of that self-righteous little mouth. "We're among friends here, no point in false modesty." His fingers dropped back between her thighs as his other hand gripped her hair once more. Antonin's lips parted at his pet's pained whimper and darkness filled the eyes of his other Death Eater. Seeing their rapt attention, he struck, this time at the other side of her neck. As she bucked against him, desperate to remove herself, the hand tangled in her hair moved to the front of her throat and he delighted in the rapid pulse beneath it. He tightened the grip on her as he plunged his fingers inside of her and curled them deftly. She spasmed as his teeth gnashed, each bite further tightening her cunt around his fingers until he could hardly move them.
When he pulled his mouth away once more, he drank in the desperation on Antonin's face. Elena panted weakly against him. He kissed her ear and whispered, "I'm going to fuck you right here, pet. I'm going to destroy you while they watch, and they'll get off to your screams for mercy." Another flutter at her core and he laughed, lifting her slight form off his lap and laying her onto the long side table one of the men had conjured for their drinks. A flick of his wand and she was naked, baring so much unmarked flesh for him to cut, bruise, welt.
Voldemort watched her sit up, one hand helping her push upright while the other curled over her breasts. "Still willing, sweetheart?"
She blinked up at him, considering. "Yes, my lord," she said after a moment.
The Dark Lord smiled.