The
Burning Pen
Sickest Lemon Challenge
Challenge Rules
The story content is adult in nature and can
contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked
to leave this site immediately. You
are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged
who view these works.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Sickest Lemon Challenge Offering ~ 4962 words
The Drawing
The group of female deatheaters milled about Voldemort's throne room excitedly, clutching small pieces of numbered parchments in their hands and chattering among each other. Tonight was the night of "The Drawing" where two randomly picked deatheater witches out of
those who had performed exemplary acts of loyalty for Voldemort in the past
several years, would get to have a go at the Dark Lord.
In the crowd of witches was Delores Umbridge, who had successfully taken over Hogwarts for a time, though was eventually thrown out, Bellatrix LeStrange, who had surprised and killed a dozen Order members single-handedly and Narcissa Malfoy, who at a gathering had placed tracking spells on several Ministry officials who needed to be 'removed' from office. There were many others. Over one hundred fifty witches were in attendance, all vying for the honor of being fucked by their Lord.
Voldemort sat on his throne, tapping the side of it with his wand as he eyed the randy group of female deatheaters in front of him, his red eyes sweeping the crowd and idly wondering if there were any way he could fix the drawing. There were some really ugly witches out there. It was Peter Pettigrew who suggested the Dark Lord have this drawing once a year as incentive for his female deatheaters to get more involved in his plans to take over the wizarding world. It sounded like a good idea at the time.
Now as Voldemort looked at the witches, he realized some of them were well over one hundred and on the verge of haggishness. Then there were others that were unshapely, and a couple that were so bloody ugly they could have rivaled the Gorgon for their ability to petrify a wizard with a single look. Well, he was in for it now. Maybe the gods would be merciful and his partners wouldn't be completely disgusting. He had given his word. He'd have to fuck them no matter what they looked like.
The thin, scaly wizard shuddered, then scowled blackly. If he ended up having to fuck undesirables, Peter could expect a nice, thorough round of Cruciatus curses over the next week, the fat little bastard.
Argus Filch stood next to the Dark Lord's throne, adding names to a large, wire-cage barrel that had a crank. It was he who would be spinning the names, picking them out and handing them to the Dark Lord to announce. Argus was a squib, but he was still a pureblood. Years of being abused by snotty little Hogwarts students had driven him to join the Dark Lord. Although Voldemort called him "less than useless" Argus was good at cleaning, so the Dark Lord let him sweep up around the throne room and clean up after Revels. Argus loved cleaning up after Revels. He was a necrophiliac after all, and there were plenty of still warm female bodies to be had after a Revel. And he had his pick of them.
Some of the deatheater witches looked at Bellatrix with narrowed eyes.
"It's not fair she's in the drawing," one witch spat, "she gets to fuck him all the time. She's his favorite."
"Shhh!" another witch said, her eyes wide with terror, "Don't let her hear you complaining or there'll be one less witch in the running, if you know what I mean! She's crazy."
Bellatrix cut her wild gray eyes over at the cluster of witches, and they all fell silent. She certainly was insane, insane for the Dark Lord. She hated the idea of him fucking another witch, but got crucio'd when she jealously complained to him one night.
"It'ssss all in the name of the 'Greater Evil', Bellatrixssss," he had lisped at her as she writhed on the floor in agony, "We mussst all make our ssssacrificesss. Remember your place, witch."
Bellatrix scowled at the memory as she looked at the witches. She'd gladly kill every single one of them to keep the Dark Lord's cock to herself. But Voldemort had warned her to behave herself or she could expect a session in his torture chamber. And not her usual session. The witch had gone white at his threat and agreed to behave. When Voldemort punished…he punished thoroughly. He had all kinds of terrible muggle instruments of torture to insert and open inside a woman's orifices. Things he had collected from a time in their history called "The Spanish Inquisition". Twisted as she was, Bellatrix didn't want to experience them.
Filch had the barrel of numbers set up and acknowledged his Master. Voldemort looked at the squib speculatively. Hell, if he had to go down…he'd have someone come with him. He might have to stick his cock in each of the witches, but if they were too gross, he could have Filch finish them. The prize only was he'd fuck them, not bring them to climax. The Dark Lord sighed with relief at having figured out some kind of escape from this travesty.
Voldemort tapped on his throne with some alacrity. The witches all fell silent, looking at him with lust and adoration as the thin, golden-robed wizard rose from his throne and walked down the steps until he stood on the floor level with them.
"My loyal followers. You have all been chosen to participate in this drawing as a reward for your service to me in the past
several years. Two numbers shall be drawn from this barrel, and the two witches who hold the matching numbers will be given the honor of sexually pleasuring me publicly," he said, his lisp at a minimum.
The witches all tittered with excitement, bouncing on their toes and nudging each other before calming down under Voldemort's scowl. The wizard turned to Filch.
"Argus, you may begin turning the barrel," the Dark Lord said.
Filch began to turn the crank, his scraggly hair swinging with his effort as he mixed the slips of parchment inside thoroughly. The witches watched breathlessly. Finally, Voldemort nodded at him to stop. Puffing, the bent caretaker did so, opening the top, reaching in with one knobbly hand and removing a slip of parchment. He handed it to the Dark Lord, who scanned it with his red eyes.
"Number 003510," he called out.
All the witches looked down at their slips. A familiar whoop rose out of the crowd.
"Me! Me!" Bellatrix cried, shoving her way through the crowd of muttering and disappointed witches, falling to her knees before Voldemort. He sighed with relief.
"I have been picked! Yes! It is destiny!" the witch gloated.
Little angry mutters of "fixed" and "cheated" went up behind her.
Voldemort glared at the remaining witches.
"I assure you, this drawing is not fixed. If I hear any more comments like that, I will mass Crucio you all!" he seethed.
Not another peep rose from the group.
He turned to Filch.
"Good pick, squib. Now give me another like that, and I might let you take a shot at Bellatrix," he said to the squib, whose dull eyes glittered as he looked down on the curvaceous witch kneeling on the floor. Living pussy? He hadn't had any of that in years.
"Yes, my Lord," he said happily, turning the crank quickly and mixing up the parchments again, praying another pretty witch's number would come up. The Dark Lord nodded and the squid stopped cranking. He opened the top and reached his hand it. It was shaking slightly and paused over the parchments. Filch picked up one, then dropped, picking up another. He picked over several slips before Voldemort lost his temper and gave him a short blast of Crucio.
"Just pick one!" he hissed at the trembling squib.
Filch quickly pulled out a slip of parchment and offered it to his Lord, his head bowed. Frowning, Voldemort snatched it out of his hand and read it.
"Number 000666," he said.
Again the witches all looked down at their slips. Disappointed moans went up. Suddenly a girlish voice squealed.
"Oh my gods! Oh my gods! It's me! I've been chosen! I've never won anything before in my life!"
Voldemort watched as the crowd of witches shifted as someone walked through them. They parted and the chosen witch appeared. Voldemort's mouth dropped open in horror.
Delores Umbridge.
The squat toadish woman struggled down to her knees, almost toppling over in the process. She gave him a wide lipped smile as she bent before him.
"I am yours, my Lord," she piped.
"Oh good gods," Voldemort thought, looking down at the woman.
The Dark Lord looked at Filch narrow-eyed, thinking about casting the Killing curse on the trembling squib. Fuck. Delores Umbridge. He was in a nightmare. He'd rather face Albus Dumbledore with both hands tied behind his back than fuck Umbridge.
As he looked at Delores distastefully, Voldemort's flexible cock almost twisted itself into a painful knot beneath his robes. Voldemort hissed and mentally untangled it. Peter was really going to suffer for this one. He gathered his composure and looked at the remaining witches.
"The recipients have been chosen. The throne room is now open for apparation. Those who wish to attend or depart the proceedings are welcome to do so. Pleasuring will begin in half and hour," he said.
Witches began to disapparate as other witches and wizards arrived. A buffet table appeared against the far back wall, loaded down with drinks and appetizers. A Revel was to follow Voldemort's exhibition.
Two female deatheaters approached Bellatrix and Delores. They caught the chose witches' arms and lifted them from the floor as Voldemort returned sullenly to his throne, falling into it heavily.
"Come with us. You must thoroughly be cleansed and prepared for the Master," one woman said to the witches.
Delores and Bellatrix obediently went with them.
Voldemort watched them go, his red eyes fixed on Delores' huge, shifting, shapeless ass. He felt like vomiting.
Peter Pettigrew apparated in, took one look at Delores Umbridge being led away for preparation and disapparated before the Dark Lord saw him. No way was the animagus going to stay for this. He could count on a loooong week when he did come back.
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The two witches were undressed and thoroughly scourgified. Bellatrix's eyes raked over Umbridge's squat, curveless body, mottled skin and large, floppy breasts. She smirked. So the Dark Lord wanted to fuck another witch, eh? This was precisely the kind of witch Bellatrix would have chosen for him. She still wasn't happy Voldemort was going to fuck Umbridge, but found some solace in knowing he wasn't going to enjoy it. How could he? She was a toad.
What Bellatrix didn't know however, that unattractive as Delores was, she had something very special to give the Dark Lord. Delores had never been with a wizard before. She was a virgin. The Dark Lord liked virgins. Or he liked the idea of being the first wizard to fuck a witch, rather. It was an ego thing. How much of a difference this fact would make in how the Dark Lord treated the witch remained to be seen.
Bellatrix eyed the witch. Delores was quiet and rather apprehensive. She was in for it now. But at least her first would be the Dark Lord and not many could say that, and still be alive. Voldemort often fucked the muggle virgins brought to the Revels first before handing them over to his deatheaters. So usually when he popped a cherry, it was soon pitted. Delores would be the first virgin he fucked who actually would walk away in years.
"You know, the only good thing about you Umbridge, is that you make everyone else look sexy," Bellatrix said, laughing nastily.
Delores turned her eyes toward the buxom witch.
"Fuck you, Bella," she replied evenly in her girlish voice.
Bellatrix was instantly enraged, but she didn't have her wand. It was taken away with her clothing.
"Why you insolent little toad!" the witch spat with such venom, spit flew out of her mouth. "If not for the drawing, our Lord wouldn't look at you twice, you disgusting pig."
"Well, at least my pussy isn't loose enough to shove two trolls through," Delores spat back at her. "You've been around the square so many times, Bella, they've named a lane after you."
Bellatrix's knuckles went white with rage.
"When I get my wand back you bitch, you'll pay for your insolence!" she seethed, her eyes wide with hatred.
"Whatever, Bella," Delores said, dismissing her.
The witch was at a point in her life where she didn't care if she lived or died anyway. Delores had no kids, a boring job at the Ministry and no wizard in her life. She went home to an empty flat each day. She didn't even own a pet. Bella would be doing her a favor.
The door open and two robes were thrust in. They were red, and closed with sashes rather than fasteners.
"It is time," a male voice said.
Bellatrix tied on her robe and strode out of the room confidently. Delores slipped on her robe, tied the sash and followed her nervously. The witch knew she was ugly and disgusting. She'd be on display for everyone to see. But still, she'd be envied. She was going to be fucked by the Dark Lord.
That counted for something.
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Severus Snape was in attendance, drawn by morbid curiosity to see what two witches the Dark Lord would end up fucking. He hoped it would be someone distasteful. His eyes widened as he saw Bellatrix enter the throne room. Well, that figured. Probably some kind of fix. Then he saw Delores Umbridge and grinned widely. She certainly wasn't a fix. Choosing her probably broke the entire barrel. The Potions Master pushed his way through the crowd to find a good vantage point. He didn't want to miss one stroke of this.
The deatheaters all went silent, watching as the two witches walked before Voldemort's throne and knelt, their heads lowered. Voldemort noticed a look of victory on Bellatrix's face before she lowered it, and eased into her mind to see what the minx was thinking.
He scowled. She was laughing at him…because he had to fuck Umbridge. He'd fix that.
He looked down on the two witches imperiously.
"Stand and disrobe," he commanded.
Both witches rose. Bellatrix quickly dropped her robes. The male deatheaters all murmured appreciatively at her curves and plump ass. Delores removed her robes and cries of disgust and even a few retches went up. Good gods, Voldemort had to fuck that?
"Both of you spin so my deatheaters can see your…charms," Voldemort said thickly as his red eyes washed over Delores' dumpy body.
Both spun, Delores' big floppy breasts shaking as she did so. She had a pouch so her pubic hair couldn't even be seen. Some deatheaters gagged. Bellatrix was delicious and knew it, spinning with her breasts jutting out, her shaved pussy available to every eye. Some deatheaters salivated. They turned back to face Voldemort.
"Umbridge, lay down on your back and spread your legs," the Dark Lord ordered, rising and walking down the steps to stand in front of the witch.
Bellatrix's eyes narrowed. Surely he wasn't going to fuck that toad before her?
Delores obeyed him, getting on the floor with some effort, her fat splaying out to the side and her body flattening somewhat. She spread her legs. Now her black pubic hair could be seen.
Voldemort then looked at Bellatrix, his red eyes flashing.
"Pleasure her, Bella. Show me what that tongue can do," he lisped at her, an evil smirk on his face.
She wanted to laugh at him, eh? Let her see how easy it was to laugh with a mouthful of pussy.
"What?" Bella said outraged.
Voldemort calmly pointed his wand at her.
"Crucio!" he said, hitting her with the curse. Bellatrix started screaming horribly. After about ten seconds, Voldemort released her.
"Pleasure her!" he demanded.
The shuddering witch crawled on her hands and knees toward Umbridge, moving between her spread legs. This was humiliating. The Dark Lord was purposely humiliating her.
"Spread her lips, I want to see what she looks like," Voldemort said.
Bellatrix obeyed him, and spread Delores full lips. The witch gasped at the contact. No one had ever touched her down there before. Bellatrix looked at Umbridge's pussy in surprise, then looked up at the witch.
"You're a virgin?" she asked in disbelief.
Murmurs went through the crowd of deatheaters. A virgin among them? Impossible. But then again, Umbridge never attended the Revels…the deatheaters fucked each other as well as muggles. Delores believed she would never get a partner, so rather than be embarrassed, she just didn't attend.
Voldemort's hairless eyebrows went up in surprise as he quickly knelt beside the stunned Bellatrix and examined Delores himself. Yes, a thin, pink membrane was stretched across her entrance. Actually, her pussy was the most attractive thing about the witch. Voldemort looked up at her.
"A gift," he lisped, "In a very unattractive package, but still a gift."
Voldemort rose and walked to Delores' head. He stepped over her and lowered himself, straddling her shoulders as he began to unfasten his robes. The females in the audience groaned when he did so.
"Pleasure her Bellatrix," he commanded as he worked at his fastenings, "And don't break her hymen witch. That's for me."
Bellatrix frowned. The bitch had something to offer the Master that she didn't. Angrily she put her mouth to Delores and caught her clit between her teeth, biting down. The witch buckled and screeched in pain.
"Bella!" Voldemort hissed, half turning toward the witch. "Don't make me Crucio you until you shit on yourself! I said 'pleasure' her. You know how to eat pussy. Do it!"
Bellatrix paled at the anger in his voice and set about licking and sucking Umbridge's clit in an attempt to soothe it. Little child-like whimpers rose up from the witch as she felt Bella's tongue lashing at her pussy. Delores had never felt anything so good in her life.
"Yes! Yes!" she cried, her mouth stretching, looking even more toad-like, causing disgusted responses from the audience. But she didn't care as she felt wetness pouring out of her in response to Bellatrix's ministrations. Bellatrix was in her zone now, closing her eyes and laying tongue and lips to the witch. Despite how disgusting Delores was physically, she had good pussy.
Delores was too large to arch her back, so her hips rose and fell heavily, thumping against the floor. Bella didn't even have to hold her as she drank in the toadish witch's juices.
Voldemort opened his robes, and his thick scaly cock snaked out, writhing and twisting over Delores' face. It bent and touched her face all over as if examining it. Good thing it didn't have eyes or it would have recoiled in horror at the stretch lipped witch moaning beneath it.
"Delores, open your mouth and get your first taste of cock," Voldemort breathed. She was disgusting, but shit, she was a virgin at least. It made her bearable.
Obediently, the witch opened her wide lips, and Voldemort's cock curled, then filled it. Her mouth was hot and wet, and the Dark Lord sighed with pleasure despite himself as his cock coiled, curled and stroked her mouth.
"Suck it!" he hissed at her. Delores wrapped those toad-like lips around Voldemort's cock and sucked hard as his cock thrust itself between them so they dragged on his shaft.
"Shit," Voldemort hissed. Those ugly lips were good for something after all.
The male deatheaters began to cheer as they saw the Dark Lord was actually getting pleasure from the ugly witch, which was a monumental accomplishment in itself as far as they were concerned. Not a single male deatheater thought they could fuck the witch. She was cock-softeningly ugly. More proof that their Lord was extraordinary.
The female deatheaters watched the Dark Lord groan enviously. Obviously he was pleased with what Delores was doing as she sighed and gasped around his cock, Bellatrix working on her pussy like a professional muff-diver. The dark-haired witch's face was covered in Umbridge's juices she was working on her so ardently. Bellatrix was bisexual and loved pussy. She quickly forgot her hatred as she indulged her tastes.
Voldemort was vocally praising Delores' mouth now as his cock writhed and plunged into it, gagging the witch but still thrusting and wriggling, glistening with her saliva. Suddenly the Dark Lord let out a cry and his cock pulled out of Delores mouth, spraying her face with thick yellow come like a hose, getting full coverage as Voldemort looked down at her, his red eyes slitted with pleasure. The come made her look a little better.
Sated, he whispered, "Well done, witch," before rising and turning to see Bellatrix enjoying herself immensely. Too much in fact.
"Get up and clean her face off," he hissed at the witch, catching her by her black hair and dragging her up and across Delores' flabby body until she was face to face with her come-splattered face. Delores looked up at her, a glint of malice in her eyes.
"Lick!" Voldemort said to Bellatrix, wrenching her head around brutally.
Bellatrix began to lick Voldemort's spunk off of the ugly witch's face, wincing as more and more of it came into view. This was decidedly the grosser end of the witch in Bellatrix's opinion. She hurriedly cleaned Voldemort's bitter ejaculation off of Delores' face, then pulled away, unwilling to look at her any longer.
Voldemort's cock was writhing again, ready for more. He looked at Bella with narrowed eyes.
"Get on your hands and knees," he hissed at her.
Bellatrix obeyed. He'd fuck her first…good. She was ready for it.
She climbed off Delores and crawled across the floor on her hands and knees, then stopped expectantly. Voldemort made her turn and face the other way. Argus Filch was watching the goings-on hotly, a noticeable bulge in his pants as Voldemort positioned himself behind Bellatrix. With a wave of his wand, he blindfolded her, then his cock thrust itself hard into her body, making the witch shriek.
He fucked her for a few moments, then waved to Filch and pointed at the witch's bucking ass. The squib's eyes widened as the deatheaters cheered and egged him on.
Filch hurried over, opening his pants, pulling them down and revealing an erect but knobbly and somewhat ancient cock. Voldemort pulled out of Bellatrix, rose and gestured to Filch, who knelt. Gods, living pussy…and attached to a pretty woman. Argus' broom had finally come in.
The squib shoved his cock into Bella with a groan of pleasure. He opened his mouth but Voldemort tapped him on the shoulder and put one thin finger to his lips, warning Filch not to say anything to tip Bella off he was fucking her. Filch nodded and plunged into the witch delightedly, holding her milky buttocks firmly in his gnarled fingers, his face contorting worse than usual as he fucked her, slapping against her ass noisily. Much better than dead pussy. This was nice and wet and moving.
Bella had hesitated when Voldemort pulled out of her, but after Filch entered, she relaxed. Voldemort did different things with his cock, so he probably had done something special to it for the exhibition. It felt rather bumpy and twisted, and he was actually stroking her, rather than letting his cock do the work as usual. It felt very good, and she sighed with pleasure.
"Oh Dark Lord, you are magnificent!" she breathed, causing another round of cheers from the deatheaters and Filch to smile horrendously as he sped up, thrusting for all he was worth into the blindfolded witch.
Voldemort returned to Umbridge. Now that he could see her face again, he was a bit revolted…but the virgin pussy…he wanted that. He backed away from her.
"Come to me, Umbridge…hop, little toady, hop," he hissed.
Umbridge rolled over ponderously and did her best to hop over to him amidst cries of "oh gods" and "Ewwww". Puffing, she squatted before him.
"On your hands and knees, toad," he said, walking around behind her.
Delores was big and curveless. It was like getting behind a huge, pale lump of mottled flesh. Voldemort steeled himself, knelt behind her and pulled her large buttocks apart so he could see his target. There it was, pink and pretty under all that flesh. What a shame. His red eyes focused on her hymen as cock writhed hungrily for untouched twat.
"Yes," he hissed as his organ felt about her ass before finding its destination.
It tapped against her softness a couple of times, then reared back and struck like a snake, ripping through Delores hymen as she screamed, burying itself in her tight, wet pussy.
"Holy Mother of Merlin!" Voldemort shouted in bliss as Delores' pussy clamped around him, causing Bellatrix to freeze as she heard her Master's voice from a distance away.
Filch felt her stiffen.
"Oh shit, the jig is up," he thought and began plunging into her as fast and hard as he could.
Bellatrix ripped the blindfold from her face and saw Voldemort fucking Umbridge. She let out a shriek of rage and half-turned to see Filch's twisted form fucking her unmercifully.
"Get off me you fucking squib!" she screamed at him at the deatheaters laughed and cheered for Filch, who was hanging on to her ass for dear life as the witch tried to wrench away from him.
Filch was up in age but he was strong, and held her long enough to come, shuddering, groaning and shoving his knobbly tool into her as deep as he could as he released a sparse, weak stream into her body.
Bellatrix screamed as she felt it. Finally Filch released her, his thin chest rising and falling.
"That was the best piece of living ass I've gotten in years," he panted at her.
"You disgusting little prig," Bellatrix shouted at him, "I'll kill you!"
Filch was tired, but was up in a minute, pulling up his pants and darting into the crowd, the naked witch right behind him, her nails curved into claws. Hands raked across her body as she passed, grabbing at her breasts and ass as she shrieked, losing Filch in the crowd.
"Get off me!" she yelled, pushing all the closing bodies away, and walking back toward the throne. She
shoved her way through the deatheaters and watched Voldemort tear into Umbridge with abandon, her eyes slitted. He had tricked her and given her to that squib Filch, now he was fucking that toad and enjoying it.
Voldemort was enjoying Umbridge. She had a tight, tight pussy and he could feel every bit of it. The witch was shrieking in a little girlish voice as his snake-like cock writhed and thrust and coiled inside her, the Dark Lord hissed and grunting loudly in pleasure. So much in fact that almost every male deatheater found himself getting hard. Was her pussy really that good?
Severus however, remained flaccid. He wouldn't fuck Umbridge if her pussy were made of pure platinum. She was just too fucking ugly. Anyway, he had Hermione, and her pussy was platinum as far as he was concerned.
Voldemort felt himself coming to the edge, his cock speeding up, corkscrewing into the screaming witch as sweat poured off the Dark Lord's body, making his robes stick to him. Finally he burst, shouting "YES!" at the top off his lungs, his cock pulling out of the witch, taking aim and spraying her back and buttocks with more rich yellow come.
"Excellent," he panted. "You're ugly as the back end of a troll, Umbridge, but you've got the best pussy I've ever had. You're going to be my consort, witch…until I've loosened it up at least."
Bellatrix screamed in rage.
"No! No! I am your consort! Me! Beautiful me! Not that toad-witch!" she shouted.
Voldemort studied her as he rose quietly.
"You are hereby sent back to the ranks, Bellatrix. Take her," he said coldly to the deatheaters, who closed over the screaming, naked witch in a swarm of lust. Bellatrix LeStrange was in for one hell of a ride tonight. Most likely she would be more popular than the muggles, she had been untouchable for so long. A lot of deatheaters' fantasies were about to become true tonight.
Voldemort walked over to where Delores had dropped her robe, picked it up and brought it to her, watching her struggle to her feet. He handed the robe to her, looking at her body in disgust. How could such an exquisite twat be hidden in all that flab? He sighed. He was a sucker for good pussy.
The Dark Lord thrust the robe at her.
"Cover up," he said, his face twisted in distaste.
Delores did.
"Thank you, my Lord," she said to him in her high-pitched, girlish voice.
"Whatever. You may go, Delores. I will summon you when I need you," he said. Delores was handed her wand and her robes in a bundle.
"Yes, my Lord," Delores said, disapparating.
Voldemort scourgified himself, buttoned his robes and walked up to his throne. He sat down and listened to Bellatrix's agonized screaming. He knew that particular scream. Someone was fucking her in the ass. Hard.
She had been getting too clingy and demanding anyway. Delores would be better. She wasn't as proud as Bellatrix. She wouldn't make any demands.
She was horribly, horribly ugly however.
Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment, then decided the problem of her looks
was nothing a glamour or well-placed sack couldn't help.
THE END
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A/N: Squick, Squicketty, Squick, Squick, Squick! Lol AND a happy ending. For Umbridge anyway. Lol. Too gross. Kai…you have ruined me. Ruined me. :::shaking head::::
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