AN: Please be warned that, as discussed, this chapter has torture in it. This includes what I would call sexual torture, though it is implicit and in no way graphic. Heed this warning if you are squeamish or triggered by such and shoot me a review asking for a non-graphic summary of the contents. Thanks my very best of readers!

Tom crumpled the wards around Avery Villa as his wife smoothed back her hair and straightened her skirt after landing somewhat clumsily on the cobblestone in front of the ancestral home.

It wasn't strictly necessary of course; the wards did not bar him, but he wanted Avery to know he was coming. He wanted the man to sweat and worry and wring his hands back and forth, if that was something Corvus was even capable of. He wanted his lead interrogator to have time to truly dread his arrival.

He took a moment to re-secure his wand in its holster, eying his little wife with a small frown.

While Hermione always dressed appropriately when they would be in contact with his followers, today was different. His eyes followed her perfectly manicured blood-red fingernails as she fiddled with the bodice of her robes. The material was not her usual fare, but a shimmery black sleeveless number with a stiff high collar and a slit up to her mid-thigh. Her typically unadorned face was decorated with harsh streaks of black around her eyes and a red slash for her mouth. When combined with her fair skin and the way her hair was pinned away from her face, it gave her the appearance of being carved from marble, from ice.

On this day, his Gaza was knife-sharp edges and to rub up against her was to walk away bleeding. In a strange turn of events, he found himself displeased to see her so hardened. He had spent so much time fantasizing about how he might change her when first they met, mold her into something similar to the creature in front of him, yet he now found the image lacking something integral. It was wildly inaccurate, a portrayal of a different woman; his wife was flame and intellect and passion, not frigid danger.

Then her eyes met his, uncertain and nervous and determined, and the mask of plumage and paint disintegrated. Like a warrior to battle, she had donned her armor, but it wasn't a part of her. He pulled his Deliciae into his chest and planted a kiss on her forehead, smirking into her hair when she melted into him in a bid for comfort.

He may dislike the aesthetic, but he would not try to take her war paint from her. While he did not personally understand the need for such things (finding torture to be no more taxing than research or a business meeting himself,) if it allowed him the privilege of watching his little wife wreak havoc and vengeance across a man who had betrayed him, he'd gift her the security of it all the same.

Pain may not be his kink, but submission certainly was. The idea of seeing his bond mate force another to crumple his will beneath her dainty heel did things to the Dark Lord that he had not entirely anticipated.

Carefully keeping his thoughts concealed from his expression, Tom pulled back and placed a hand beneath his Deliciae's chin, pulling until her face tilted up to greet him. Her eyes snapped to his and he raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Corvus Avery's home before shooting her an inquisitive glance.

He watched with interest as she stiffened in his grasp before every muscle of her body relaxed in a controlled symphony, one after the other. Her face became smooth and unaffected, aristocratic in its distance, and Tom could not help but to grin at her attempt.

He kissed her just to ruin it, chuckling when her face scrunched up and she batted at him with a scowl, before offering his arm to escort her to the door. The wards had fallen a while ago and Corvus had been granted sufficient time to ruminate. Hermione placed her hand in in the crook of his elbow and allowed Tom to lead her up the stairs and to a set of peeling, gray double doors.

Avery Villa was ill cared for and ominous in aura, much like the quintessential muggle haunted house. Corvus had never cared much for such things, always somewhat slovenly behind closed doors, and Epona had been exceedingly unlikely to change anything what-so-ever without explicit permission. As he had learned this morning, Epona did apparently boast ownership of a house elf; it was evident, however, upon seeing the untrimmed shrubs and peeling paint on the shutters that he was likely one of few or perhaps the only elf in residence. While Nidum Serpentis was small enough to be managed by one elf, most pureblood ancestral houses had upwards of 80 rooms. Even with magic, it was too much for less than a fleet of elves to maintain.

Hermione's face screwed up in a grimace as she eyed the gargoyle that served as a door knocker, reaching a hand out to lift it before Tom caught her wrist.

"Careful, Gaza," he said softly, reaching his free hand up to do it himself. When his fingers lingered in front of it, the stone face moved swiftly, extending its jaw to reveal razor-like teeth as it leaned out from the doorway. The creature bit at his thumb before shuddering back into the wood as his blood registered as approved.

His Deliciae swallowed and offered him a small smile of thanks as the doors swung open. "What would have happened if I had knocked?" she asked.

Tom moved his hand to the small of her back and ushered her inside. "The knocker would have failed to recognize you and would have requested payment for your entrance," he explained, flicking his wrist carelessly so that the doors slammed behind him. "Since you were inside the wards and the gargoyle had not been deactivated by its master-"

"It would have demanded payment in flesh," Corvus Avery's voice interrupted, echoing through the large room. Tom's eyebrow went up at the gall and he glanced to the front of the entrance hall where Corvus was slowly sauntering in. "A hand, my dear Lady, maybe even your forearm as well, to weaken you before you would be allowed entrance to the great house of Avery."

Corvus spread his arms gesturing to the area around him and exposing his chest as his robe fell open. Judging by the towel wrapped around the man's waist, Tom was fairly certain they had interrupted his minion's steam. Rage suffused his being as he took in the disrespect of his follower, the interruption as well as the exposure of his body to Tom's wife.

Well. It was not as if mercy had been on the table to start with, but now...

Corvus dipped into a slight bow, the merest flirt at a whisper of courtesy, before straightening again and leaning casually sideways against the wall. "My Lord and Lady," he said, crossing his arms across his chest as he reclined languidly. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I am, as you can see, unprepared for visitors but my Lord and Lady Riddle?"

He laughed, an easy and charming sound before he continued. "My home, my soul, my everything, is as always... yours."

Tom stepped away from his wife, calmly placing his hands in his pockets as he walked deliberately towards the Death Eater. Corvus began to straighten, muscles losing their looseness as the man watched his slow and precise steps until he stalled in the middle of the entrance hall. Silence reigned as Tom casually glanced around the room, rolling his shoulder and neck before closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep, soothing breath.

His fury beat beneath the surface, but it was easy to keep it banked. His follower had either decided to go to his death with an inordinate amount of defiance or failed to understand the danger he was in entirely. Tom suspected the latter. The time to unleash his rage would come; for now, there was a rodent to toy with.

"Do come here, Corvus," he purred, watching as Avery's eyes widened and his pupils dilated drastically. The man twitched before forcing himself to follow the directive, stopping a few feet in front of Tom.

Corvus licked his lips nervously, the look on his face no longer the cheeky, defiant expression he had greeted them with. Now, his features showed confusion and apprehension.

Tom's arm shot out, tangling his fingers in the other man's hair before yanking him closer, pulling Corvus into his personal space. Avery's hand twitched as if the instinct to reach for his wand was almost too much, but his fist clenched helplessly when a feminine, whispered 'expelliarmus' saw it sailing away from him and into Hermione's waiting palm.

Tom glanced back at his little wife, shooting her a fond smile, before turning his attention back to the man in his grip. Corvus's chest was inches from his own, the strands of his hair curled around Tom's fingers like a lover's, as the Dark Lord smiled coldly at the dead man. He had only a few inches on Corvus, but the other man's knees had clearly gone weak as Tom took most of his weight with his other hand on Avery's upper bicep.

"You've been very naughty, Corvus," he scolded softly, using his grip to tilt Avery's eyes up to meet his own. "Very naughty, indeed. Legilimens."

Without giving his lackey time to lower his defenses, Tom shredded his occlumency walls, ignoring the whimper of pain from the body in front of him as well as the scream that echoed in the mind. He forced his way forward until he found the memory of Corvus's night and morning, brutally pushing through the hours as he ripped and tore details away. When he was done, he carelessly wrenched his mind backwards, releasing his physical hold on Avery at the same time and turning back to his wife as the man crumpled to the floor with a pain-filled sigh.

Glancing back briefly at the figure, Tom reached down and threaded his hand through Corvus's hair once more, forcing the man to meet his eyes. "Sit here like a good boy for the moment and perhaps try to catch your breath," he ordered, smiling as Corvus grimaced in pain and attempted to force his hazy eyes to focus. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," Avery grit out hoarsely, collapsing back with his face to the floor when Tom released him.

He strode back to his Deliciae who was eyeing the subjugated form of his lackey with brutal satisfaction dancing in her eyes. The look made his steps stutter and his pants tighten painfully as he inhaled, gaze fixed to the subtle upturn of her lips and the shaking of her hands.

"Gaza?" he inquired softly when he reached her side, forcing his own hands to his sides lest he bend her over right here in the entrance hall and fuck her into Avery's floor.

"How many times do you imagine Epona found herself whimpering on the ground in pain in this gods-forsaken house?" she whispered, eyes tracing over Corvus as the man's body shook against the wood.

"He looks good down there," Hermione continued brutally, loud enough that Avery could hear her as he attempted to lift his face to look at her before giving up and collapsing back down. "He looks like he belongs down there, on the floor, with all the other beasts."

Tom stared at the curve of her neck, the flush of her cheeks, and felt potent arousal pool even further in his gut. He had not enjoyed what he saw of her outside, but this was something else entirely.

"Would you like me to tell you what he did?" he asked, voice deeper and huskier than he had intended.

His Deliciae's eyes flitted to his for a moment, and in them he saw feralness he had never had the privilege to witness before. He saw heat, blazes and flames licking across her iris; there was nothing but fire.

"No," she said firmly, stepping towards Corvus's collapsed form. "I want you to tell me, Lord Avery. Right after you show me these dungeons I've heard so much about."

While Tom hadn't truly considered it at the time, allowing Hermione to see the dungeons was perhaps the worst thing that could have happened at this point to affect Avery's future.

She had forced Corvus to walk, painfully and slowly, across the manor, down the stone stairs, and into the hallway that housed the cells. No one was down here now, there often wasn't, but Avery was sloppy even here. The man hadn't cleaned after he had his fun, and that choice was coming to haunt him. Tom almost grimaced in sympathy as he watched his wife's shoulders rise as she peered in each and every cell, noting the blood, the instruments, the restraints.

"Show me your favorite room, Corvus," she said, turning to where he leaned against the wall breathing harshly. Her hands shook and her fingers clenched onto her wand so tightly her knuckles were blanching, but her gaze was steady as she stared at the slumped figure before her. "And don't bother lying. You will answer all my questions honestly, because if you lie, Tom will tell me and things will be so much more unpleasant for you."

Corvus coughed, glancing sideways at Tom before he nodded in Hermione's direction. "Yes, my Lady," he said hoarsely, heaving himself to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. "It's this way."

He led her to the third cell down and opened the door, glancing back at her before preceding her into the room at her indication.

The corner of Tom's lips twitched up as he recalled just which room they were in. While some of the cells contained wall restraints and tables with straps, this cell held a full-sized bed with a bondage system. The Dark Lord considered that perhaps revealing this particular room as his favorite was not to bode well for Avery.

His Gaza glanced at the bed and then back at Avery with hatred sparking her eyes. "Go stand by the bed, Corvus," she ordered. "Do not sit. I'm going to familiarize myself with all of your many tools and then you and I are going to talk about your appalling treatment of Epona."

Corvus's jaw clenched as he stood but the man seemed too focused on his quickly returning health to bother with a response. The pain of the occlumency intrusion would be fading into a normal headache now, and his Death Eater was smart enough to know the best thing he could do for himself was to gather his wits about him.

Tom, for his part, cast a discrete scourgify on the wall before leaning against it and watching the scene before him play out. He was intrigued by this vicious side of his Deliciae, this piece of her that was petty and cruel and delicious. What would she do, with all of the Avery Dungeon resources at her disposal?

His eyes followed her as she glanced along the implements of pain that lined the wall in tidy rows, the only show of organization to be found in this hole of a place. Bullwhips hung alongside canes and strops, none of which appeared at first glance to hold any additional magic, while enchanted chains and restraint cuffs dotted the area directly beneath. He watched as his Gaza ran a finger inside one, pulling back quickly with a yelp and eying her digit as a red mark sprouted immediately along the tender fingertip.

She glanced back at Corvus coldly and a hint of a grin flashed across his face before he managed to conceal it. "Stinging Cuffs," he said, answering her unspoken question with a forced, flat affect. "The insides are lined with something similar to jellyfish tentacles."

Hermione's fist clenched and she turned back to the wall, eyes closed as she bared her teeth at nothing for the briefest of moments. Tom watched as Corvus closed his own eyes and took a calming breath through his nose, the attempt doing nothing for his current predicament (Tom noted) as the pain in Avery's body had faded and he was now faced with a room full of his desires and memories.

Somewhere between the front room and here, Corvus had dropped his towel and the man's cock was rapidly filling with blood at the sight of his many, many torture implements. He moved to close his robe in an attempt to hide the arousal, but with a flick of his wand, Tom tore the garment away from him and brought it across the room to land in a pile at the Dark Lord's feet.

Corvus grimaced, looking to the ceiling as his eyelashes fluttered in frustration, while Tom smiled coldly on. Oh yes, reminding his little wife of the man's sexual sadism was going to go quite poorly for Corvus, but that was hardly Tom's problem. He wanted to see what she would do with this situation, and losing her anger too early would result in losing her nerve as well.

That could not be allowed to happen.

In truth, he often took away the clothing of people he was punishing regardless. It was important they understood their place at that moment, and that place was not the heir of a pureblood house or a highly respected member of society; when they were under his wand for correction, they were his beasts, his poorly loved pets, his lowest form of entertainment. None of what they were required clothing and giving them protection from the humiliation of nakedness was just confusing.

Physical torture was much more effective when combined with psychological elements whenever possible.

At the sound of cloth whooshing through the air, his Gaza turned and fixed him with a confused look. Her gaze settled on the robe at his feet before flicking to Corvus and quickly down to his now fully prominent arousal. Tom watched as her eyes flashed with disgust and anger before she abandoned her perusal of the many implements of torture on the wall and turned her attention fully to Avery.

"Epona Avery arrived at our home early this morning with innumerable injuries and moderate blood loss," she said coldly, walking towards Corvus with her fists clenched at her sides. "What could she have possibly done that was so abhorrent that you disobeyed a direct order from your Lord?"

Corvus's jaw clenched and his eyes flashed as he quickly looked over at Tom, ignoring Hermione completely in what Tom suspected was going to be a decision he would live to regret.

"I was not to vent my frustrations or seek pleasure through the application of pain on my wife," he answered, the spark of defiance back in his eyes now that the pain had faded from his occlumency assault, "And I have violated no rule therein. My Lord, she has not tasted my wand, either wand, since the edict. Barring today, of course."

A growl from his wife had Tom raising an eyebrow and flicking his eyes towards his Deliciae, noting the way her magic was swirling around her and her eyes were darker than he'd ever seen them.

Corvus, however, was evidently feeling self-righteous and ignored the brewing storm, fixing his eyes on Hermione with a sneer.

"However, Epona is well aware that she is not to go wandering without permission," he told her, voice deep and firm as he recited his reasoning. "Yesterday, she not only did so but also chose to have lunch with an 'old friend' from school. A male friend. This severely violated the rules that have been set forth for her and therefore, I corrected the action. Not for my pleasure, but for her own sake."

His attention snapped back to Tom and he looked at him with something approaching certainty, delusions of rightness dancing in his eyes. "I have a right to discipline my wife when she needs correction," he stated imploringly. "I have a right to rule my house as the head of it. I apologize for Epona bothering you, I do, but this is not how things are done in the Death Eaters. This is not your concern, my Lord. I'm Inner Circle, I have rights, and I did not disobey you-"

"Get on the bed, Corvus," his Gaza interrupted with a tone of voice that could burn cities and raze entire countries.

Corvus glanced at her before looking back at Tom once more. "My Lor-"

"GET ON THE FUCKING BED, CORVUS!" Hermione screamed, magic pouring out of her in waves that had Tom's blood flowing swiftly south even as he looked to his lackey and shrugged. Avery did not have to listen to his wife of course (he almost hoped the man would not, in all honesty,) but it was not a choice Tom would personally recommend at this point.

Corvus breathed heavily, panting as he considered before climbing onto the bed and settling himself cross-legged. He opened his mouth to speak but a quick incarcerous from his Deliciae's mouth had the wind knocked from the man swiftly as the ropes drug him backwards and secured all four limbs to the bedposts.

Hermione's eyes closed and her hands buried in her own hair briefly as she breathed deeply, fury and a thirst for retribution sparking in the air around her as her fingers ruined her perfectly coiffed hairstyle and her whole body shook with the force of her emotions.

She was beautiful in her tempest.

She was Kali, Freya, Pele. She was his Valkyrie, his treasure. She was just... his.

Her eyes opened and Tom caught the briefest glimpse of her before she turned to her prey like the fucking predator she was. Her irises were black as obsidian and twice as hard and in a moment of weakness and affection he had never known anything like, the Dark Lord shivered.

"I cannot have justice for every life you've destroyed down in this Hades, devoid of life and light and anything good," she stated almost calmly, almost frigidly, even as her hands continued to shake and her body continued to shed excess magic. "But I can have retribution for Epona. And I will, Corvus. I will have it and I will gift this memory to her, along with a bouquet of flowers, at your fucking funeral."

With her focus firmly on the struggling man in the bed, his Deliciae addressed him softly.

"What caused the concussion, Tom?"

Tom licked his lips and studied the line of her neck, the swell of her hips, before he answered.

"He smacked her head on the floor, little Gaza."

Her wand twitched and the pillow beneath Corvus's head transfigured itself to smooth, unforgiving stone. A whispered word and the ropes loosened on his limbs, allowing his body to lift five feet from the bed and slam back down. A sickening crunching sound came through the room and Corvus screamed even as the ropes tightened back down and his head was pressed back into the stone beneath his head.

A flick of Hermione's wrist saw the familiar diagnostic spell running through his body and one of her shoulders lifted in a half shrug.

"A moderate concussion," she said quietly, "But close enough. The cuts on her body?"

Tom swallowed back his arousal as he watched her work, forcing his focus to the memory he had read in Corvus's mind.

"The Dagger of Repentance."

"Accio Dagger of Repentance," his Deliciae said firmly, walking towards the bed as it slapped into her hand. She stood over Corvus's form before grasping it firmly and slamming it to the hilt into his left shoulder. Another scream sounded from the bed, followed by whimpers as she left the blade in his skin.

"That's inefficient, Corvus," she said lightly, flicking the hilt once and ignoring the shriek that followed. "You should know from Antonin's notes the dagger only reflects back the pain one has caused on the user if it's left in the skin. Then again, I suppose Epona would not have much to experience in reflection. You, however..."

She trailed off and moved back to the end of the bed, her back still to Tom as she placed a steadying hand on one of the bedposts.

"I assume the broken wrist and sprained knee came about through the use of Alarte Ascendre and Everte Statum?" she asked calmly.

"Correct," Tom breathed, afraid to break the spell his normally compassionate wife was under, afraid to ruin the privilege of seeing her viciousness in action.

"I have no intention of untying you," she said, moving her attention back to Corvus who whimpered from his spot on the bed.

Tom suspected his mind was addled from the concussion, lowering his inhibitions and allowing his pain to show through entirely. That, too, was a sort of submission and he found it strangely exhilarating to watch. He always avoided head injuries at all costs; when one tortured for a purpose instead of sport, it was important that one's victims remembered the lessons. This was an interesting departure.

"So I suppose we'll just have to do this manually," his little wife finished, moving to the right side of the bed and placing her wand against Corvus's wrist. "This is a spell that I learned from a Medical Magics textbook. It's a modified cutting curse, to be used to cleanly break a bone when one heals improperly. Mind you, the patient is usually rendered unconscious when this happens."

Corvus cried beneath her, turning hazy eyes to try to catch her own as she kept her head down and her focus entirely on his wrist.

"Please don- AGHH!"

A whispered 'diffindo ossum' and the sound of a bone breaking echoed through the room, along with a yelp from Avery as his back arched at the pain.

She moved to the opposite knee and shrugged sharply. "I don't know how to induce a sprain, so..."

The knee cap cut in half with a sharp exhale from Corvus, who seemed beyond yelling at his point, twitching as tears soaked his face and blood began to seep from his scalp and onto the stone pillowing his head as he unintentionally ground his own flesh into it.

Hermione moved back to the foot of the bed, resuming her previous position as her shoulders scrunched up and she breathed heavily. Tom's chest had begun to pulse in distress when the Dagger of Repentance made an appearance, but the feeling was swiftly growing and despite his sheer joy (something incredibly rare for him) at watching his wife torture a man, his empathy entreaty was beginning to beat at him harshly.

"Gaza-"

"I obviously know what the cruciatus is for," she said slowly, shaking out her arms as her magic roiled around her in distress instead of fury, "but what did he use the Imperio to force her to do?"

Tom shook his head, though she, of course, could not see him as he considered the results of revealing that tidbit to her. Her upset was becoming too much now and while she was determined to get her justice, she did not need to know this.

"You've done enough, Deliciae," he said, stepping forward until he could wrap his arms around her waist from behind. She stiffened, refusing to melt into him like usual, but she didn't push him away either. "You said you would have justice for Epona and you have. Allow me to finish the more distasteful portion of this session."

"What was the Imperio for, Tom?" she asked again, but her voice was weaker, her resolve wavering, and he pressed his advantage brutally.

"You entreated my protection, little wife," Tom said smoothly, turning her in his arms until he could cup her chin and force her to look at him. Her eyes whirled with uncertainty and guilt and he clicked his tongue. "Allow me to do my job; allow me to shield you from that which would hurt you. You've done so well, cared for your little project and kept to what you promised yourself, but now it is my turn. I do not beg, and yet I implore you; let me take care of this. Let me take care of you."

His Gaza's chin wobbled ever so slightly but she nodded all the same, collapsing into him as tears squeezed from her eyes. He'd find it strange and disturbing that her emotions no longer disgusted him if he were to give himself the time to ponder, which he explicitly did not. It was pointless to wonder why she was different anymore and the consideration of such only served to make him feel... complicated. Origins aside, she was now his exception and so he simply held his little wife for a few moments of comfort before leading her pointedly to the doorway.

"Wait for me in the entrance hall," Tom told her, pushing her gently out into the hallway, "and take the time to push this day behind your occlumency walls so that it will affect you less."

His wife opened her mouth to protest and he cut her off before she could say something noble about living with the consequences of her actions or how she deserved the guilt after such choices.

"Would you change it?" he asked coldly, stepping out into the hallway with her and into her space. "Now that you have sought retribution and vindication for the soon-to-be Epona Selwyn, would you take it back if you could?"

Her eyes hardened just the right amount at the reminder of why Corvus deserved his fate and he bit back a smirk of triumph as she shook her head.

"Then you deserve to live freely without a memory that would haunt your largely inconvenient moralities."

A ghost of a smile flitted across her face at his familiar complaint and the pain in his chest eased infinitesimally before she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and retreated into the house. Tom watched as she paused just before heading up the stairs and turned back to him, her eyes fixed on his face as if she was searching for something.

"Do you promise, Erus, to complete whatever justice needs to be met for Epona?" she asked quietly, staring at him intently as if searching his face for truth.

His soul tingled at the pet name but he forced his face to stay blank as he nodded seriously.

"For you, Deliciae," he said smoothly, reminding her that while he cared very little for the other woman's suffering, he would do whatever he reasonably could to make his Gaza safe and happy. If she wanted her pet vindicated, she would have it.

She swallowed and gave him the smallest of grins before disappearing up the stairs. His eyes flashed back to the broken body of Corvus Avery on the bed as he walked back into the room, a wicked smile spreading across his face at the reminder of what his wife was capable of.

"She's quite the woman, isn't she?" Tom said softly, striding to the head of the bed casually where he looked down into Avery's pain-filled face. Corvus forced unfocused, agonized eyes to him and he swallowed.

"Please, my Lord-"

"She's developed a fondness for Epona," he continued, talking over the Avery Heir as he let his attention wander, a small crease furrowing his brow. "I don't understand it; some sort of emphasis on justice and compassion that is quite beneath me, I'm afraid. But despite her absolute hatred of you, I was still going to keep you."

Tom reached out a hand, stroking a finger along to other man's sweaty brow in an approximation of fondness before wiping his hand on the sheet.

"My Lord, I did not disob-"

"You were useful, Corvus," Tom continued, moving away from the bed and towards the wall of torture implements. "I should have liked very much to keep and use you for your niched skill set for a very long time. You had a bright enough future before this rather fatal mistake."

His eyes fell on the Stinging Cuffs and his eyebrow lifted before he hummed an affirmative sound, wandlessly and silently breaking the chain that held them together. He only required one after all.

"That's all over now, of course," Tom continued, moving back to the bed as he canceled the incarcerous binding the man. Corvus immediately attempted to move, likely in an instinctive escape attempt, but Tom tsked before casting a quietly murmured 'Imperio.'

Immediately, Avery's face took on a placid, accepting look and he relaxed down into the bed.

"Now, I have sworn to my wife that you will suffer as Epona has," he said absentmindedly, glancing down at the cuff in his hand and then back at the man still bleeding on the bed.

"Think of whatever memories you require and become aroused," Tom ordered, ignoring Corvus entirely over the next few minutes as the man's chest began to heave even with the dagger still embedded and his face flushed and his cock swelled with blood.

Tom glanced down impassively at the other man's member, sizing the cuff in his hand properly while carefully avoiding the stinging tendrils within.

"While I understand that you liked to force Epona to pretend to enjoy intercourse with you whilst under the influence of your imperious," he said with a disgusted lift to his lip, pressing the cuff into Corvus's palm, "I have no interest in fucking you. This will have to suffice as a sort of surrogate punishment."

Tom turned away and stretched his neck, moving back to the torture wall to find his next potential tool. "Go ahead and thrust into the stinging cuff," he demanded, ignoring the sound of agony from behind him that fought through his spell as he fingered a cat-o-nine-tails curiously. "If you start to flag at all due to the pain, you may cease movement long enough to fantasize yourself back to hardness before resuming your task."

His eyes fell briefly to the doorway and a quick picture of his little wife's face flashed in his mind. He tilted his head, debating, before he swiftly silenced the room. Considering that Corvus still had quite a bit of masturbatory torture and the cruciatus to endure before Tom could finally dispose of him, he imagined things were soon going to become very loud indeed.