Sexual content ahead, beware (or be happy)
Lucius stood, leaving her with her eyes closed and head angled up. It took Ginny a moment before she realized he'd gone.
He was standing next to the desk, where a tea service now sat. He held the teapot up as a question, and she nodded, trying to get to her feet gracefully even as her head kept spinning. She went to him, and he handed her a cup.
"Now," he said, leaning to open one of the desk drawers. He extracted a book, eerily similar to Tom Riddle's diary. Ginny tried not to shy away, but it did make her nervous just to see it. He set it down on the desk, and opened it to the first, blank page. He put a quill and ink beside it, and pulled out the desk chair. "I want you to write in this, anything you like as long as it's something, do you understand?" She nodded but did not speak. "I will be back," he said, heading for the door, "and I won't be happy if there is nothing in it when I return."
And then he left, and she was sure the door locked behind him.
Ginny sat there, tea cooling, for hours, and could not bring herself to so much as touch the quill. The diary, she saw now, wasn't an exact copy of Riddle's – it was larger and bound more handsomely. But still, it was empty, and the blank page taunted her as the sun began its descent outside the windows.
It was dark out when she heard his footsteps coming back down the hall. Ginny slammed the book shut and frantically tried to open the bottle of ink, hoping to give the illusion of having used it.
Lucius stepped in, and shut the door quickly behind him. He raised an eyebrow at the unbroken seal of the ink bottle in her hands, and at the clean quill.
"How interesting," he said. "It seems you didn't follow my instructions at all." He strode forward and snatched up the book, confirming his suspicions. He flipped through the pages, thinking.
"Tell me, Ginevra, have you ever had sexual fantasies about the Dark Lord?" If she was taken aback by this, she did not show it.
"Tom."
"Yes, Tom. When you knew him, he was very handsome, was he not?"
She nodded, and his look urged her to keep speaking.
"I have occasionally thought of him that way," she said, blushing right up to the roots of her hair.
"But you try not to."
Nod again.
"Why can't you allow these fantasies free reign?" he asked.
"It's wrong."
"Wrong because it's him, or because of what you imagine?"'
"Both."
"Well that is interesting."
"I was engaged to a war hero," she said, voice strengthening. "And he did love me. I could have had everything. But I threw it away because of a boy in a book, and my little wants and desires."
"You loved Tom."
"Yes."
"Tell me what you wanted from him." The snake head of his cane is touching her face, and she is once again looking up at him. In the candlelight, he is otherworldly, like someone else she once knew. "And I will give it to you."
5 minutes later, she was naked on the bed. He stood next to her, still fully clothed, although he had rolled up his sleeves. In his hand was a knife.
"You must lay still," he said. "I will not bind you for this."
She could only nod, and he began.
Starting at her collarbone, he dragged the knife down her chest, and across her hips, and down each her legs in turn. He went on like this for many minutes, rarely raising the blade, but never pressing hard enough to draw blood.
"How do you feel?" he asked, pulling it back and forth across her stomach, just above where her hipbones jutted upwards. Ginny could only moan. The edges of reality were beginning to blur. He brought the knife up to her right arm, and moved it down to the sensitive skin on the interior of her wrist. He did the same on the left. He outlined her breasts, and just as he was finishing the figure 8 he had made there, she pushed up, frantic to feel anything. It was lucky that he seemed to anticipate this, pulling his hand away at the perfect moment so that only one drop of blood was drawn.
"Self-control, dear," he tutted, and began again, even as her chest heaved with the adrenaline.
They played this game for 45 minutes, and when he finally sheathed the knife, there were little specks of blood all over her body. She was covered in a fine layer of sweat as well, and her eyes had closed. While she lay like that, beyond exhausted, he did bind her, pulling her hands above her head to the bedposts, and doing the same with her legs. Her eyes opened at the touch, and as she was about to say something, he shoved a piece of cloth in her mouth.
"Nothing from you now," he said.
Then Lucius reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a single leather glove, which he slipped on. He took the hand to her cunt, and slowly slid a finger inside. Ginny pulled at her bonds, thrashing to be freed.
"As I suspected. Sopping," he said, holding up the hand so she could see the wetness. With his non-gloved hand, he took her gag out, and then replaced it with the glistening finger. She sucked, although her eyes betrayed disgust.
"What would Tom do now? Let you have your pleasure?" She blushed again, and shook her head no.
"No, he never was a gentleman," Lucius agreed, shedding the glove and placing it on her stomach. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then." And before she could say anything, before she could call out, he was across the room with his hand on the doorknob, putting out the candles with a wave of his wand.
