MARKED FOR LIFE
chapter 2

Alecto, at that point, could do nothing but stare at Yaxley, who held up his wand once again, waved it in a short circular motion, and muttered a spell. There was a soft whooshing sound, and Macnair chuckled as he moved over to stand before her, next to Yaxley. Both were unclad, as was she, but she felt neither vulnerable nor exposed. She wanted to look at them but she kept her eyes firmly above both their waists. Macnair was quite muscular, built like the Quidditch Beater he once was while Yaxley had the build of a Chaser.

"I want ye to enjoy this, girlie," Yaxley whispered, as he stepped close to her. "Come down here with me," he added, as he knelt on the blanket and pulled her down beside him. Somewhere along the way, he'd loosed his hair from its braid; she liked the way it looked, like a proper wizard, and told him so. He chuckled and slipped his hands behind her head, loosing her dark red hair from the harsh confines of the severe updo that the elves had given her this morning. "That's better, isn't it?" He pulled her close and began kissing her. It was the second romantic kiss she'd ever received in her life. This, however, was nothing like the awkward fumbling she'd experienced with Evan Rosier in the Potions storage closet right after their OWLs—it had been on a dare, and never repeated. These kisses were overwhelming her, causing little earthquakes in her body much stronger than those she had created on her own with the scant experimentation she'd done. She moaned into his mouth and he pulled back and smirked a bit. "That's right, lass, take your pleasure. Nothing is true, everything is permitted." He was caressing her everywhere and it seemed as if there were two of him, and she puzzled at this until she realized that Macnair was lying behind her, kissing her neck and rubbing up against her arse.

"Which one of us do ye want first?" Yaxley asked, as he reached for his wand. "'M going to do a spell for ye, make things easier…" She felt the cold black wood of his wand sliding down her belly, and he muttered, "Accretio voluptas." She was incapable of thought or decisions or anything other than pure sensation after that, especially when she felt one of Macnair's large hands sliding down, his fingers instantly finding that secret spot that now seemed to be at the very center of her existence. With just a few strokes of his hand she exploded and cried out in pleasure, shuddering in Yaxley's arms. "I…I want you," she gasped. "And I want ye, too, feel how much," and he took her hand and slid it over his hardness. She had a general idea of what unclad wizards looked like; there'd been a book with pictures surreptitiously passed round in the Slytherin girls' dorms, with thousands of whispers and giggles attendant, but what she'd seen in the pictures hadn't seemed quite so large and alive and….well, solid. But before she knew it, he'd nudged her legs apart with his knee and rolled her over onto her back. Macnair had gotten partially up; she glimpsed him kneeling next to her, his large hand clasped around his massive member, his head was tipped slightly back and his eyes were slitted in pleasure as he growled, "Take her, brother, fuck her hard!" When he slid into her, she felt full, hot, alive with power, her magic crackled and surged up and down her arms, and she scraped her nails down Yaxley's back as he began moving, faster and faster, mumbling incoherent obscenities in her ear and panting, no…that was her doing that, wasn't it…or were they somehow together in her mind, had he done Legilimency or another spell? She couldn't tell, the entire world was a white-hot sea of flame and they were all at the center of it, both her wizards, one taking her virginity, then the other in her mouth, and she somehow knew what to do without explanation and it was going on and on, the sensation building like the crest of a wave, like the time she'd been at the seaside and got drawn into the undertow, down the sand, over the rocks, drawing her out into the insistent pulsing rhythm of the sea, impossibly fast…"…oh fuck, oh sweetheart, I'm gonna…" And after a powerful burst of energy, the trio lay together on the blanket, sated, sweaty and panting, the requirements of the spell that Yaxley had muttered satisfied…for the moment.

A few minutes later, while Alecto was still lost in reverie and wonderment, Yaxley had gotten up, done what she recognized as the Contraception Charm on both, as well as a thorough Scourgify. He was also fully dressed, his hair re-plaited. "Ye'd better get up now, lass," he was saying, as Macnair extended his hand to help her up. "We'll be going in there soon." He pointed his wand at her hair, and she felt it being bound up, but not quite as severely as it had been earlier. She slowly stood up; her legs were shaking.

"What…what were those spells….er, Mr. Yaxley?" she asked, from somewhere that felt like very far away from her present reality.

"They're from a book that's normally in the Restricted Section, when it isn't being passed round the dorms," Macnair interjected. He had her robe over her arm and handed it to her, with a wink. As had been requested, she was wearing no undergarments (and while she'd been rather curious about that requirement, she now understood). She redonned her robe and shoes, and Yaxley handed her wand to her, saying, "Didn't think ye wanted any surprises in a few months," he said. "I mean, I wouldna object to such, but I'd ask ye first. And I do think after what we just did, ye can call me Corban."

"I mean the other ones," she said. "The…I don't know, the pleasure ones?"

"What Walden just said, wanted to make things good for ye. The effects should hold for about a day. Your initiation ought to be a memorable occasion, don't ye think?" Both wizards chuckled, and she nodded at them. Macnair vanished the blanket but waited to take down the various privacy spells until after he'd peered through the hedge. Wordlessly, the trio filed over to the garden bench and sat—Alecto between the wizards-until the Manor's side door opened and Lucius Malfoy came striding out toward them.

"Good evening, brothers," he said. Yaxley stood up and extended his arm to Alecto, who stood up as was proper to greet one's host. "Miss Carrow," Lucius said, giving her a short, decorous bow even as his eyebrows had slightly raised at the familiarity that Yaxley had shown to her. "Mr. Malfoy," Alecto said, giving a quick curtsey as her grandmother had taught. Although the Carrows were one of the more impecunious families comprising the Sacred Twenty-Eight, their bloodlines were purer than the Malfoys—but that didn't mean lack of respect should be shown.

"If you all…" and Malfoy paused here a bit to underscore that he knew something had occurred behind his hedgerow, if not the exact details, "…would please follow me to the front parlour? Several of the other guests have arrived but you are by no means late."

"That's good," Yaxley replied, as he tucked Alecto's arm in his and led her along behind Malfoy. Macnair silently followed behind them.

The side door opened onto a twisting passageway imbued with magic; the door at the end opened directly into a large room with a chandelier overhead. There was a gargantuan table with a large, funereal flower arrangement on it and numerous chairs, all pushed to the side, apart from one thronelike chair, which was currently empty. Several wizards and witches were milling around the room, some with drinks in their hands, although the atmosphere was not festive.

Because the spell was still twisting its way through Alecto's senses, everything seemed intense—she could smell the aroma from the lilies, a sharp lemon scent which she thought might be furniture polish, sweat and unwashed hair from a few of the wizards (how gauche!), but a rather clean, outdoorsy scent from Macnair, which she found quite appealing…and at the center of it all, Yaxley's cologne, which was overpoweringly woody with an undertone of musk. Her escorts urged her to one of the chairs at the side of the room, and again, they sat down. Alecto thought, as she glanced around the gathering, that she could almost reach out and touch the currents of influence, malice, back-biting and intrigue swirling around the heads of the assembled Death Eaters, and she wondered if Yaxley had used the spell not just for sex, but to aid in his measured, yet steep rise at the Ministry. Just as she had that thought, he put his lips close to her ear and whispered, "Aye, of course," and she had to resist the urge to either laugh out loud or pull him closer for a kiss. Oh, he was just as smooth as the rumours about him had suggested, possibly even more. He was a well-known witches' wizard, quite popular among the unattached Pureblood set, but somehow, none of the witches he'd romanced and then left behind had ever said anything against him. His father had recently died, so he was now the extremely eligible heir and scion of the family…and Alecto realized that if he'd gathered her previous thoughts, he'd probably just gathered those as well. "We'll talk later," he whispered, and then nipped at her ear. It took every bit of composure she had to not just climb on him right there and ask for a repeat performance, but then her two wizards were standing up and assisting her to do so, and everyone was gathering at the middle of the room, in front of the lone chair, in which sat Lord Voldemort, looking every inch the ruler of his domain.

"Welcome, my brothers and sisters, welcome Death Eaters and those aspirants who join us this evening!" he said, in a sharp sibilant voice.