Author's Notes: Written for Cheeky Slytherin Lass's 24 Hour Pairing Challenge with the pairing Barty/Regulus and the prompt "Reg prepares Barty for joining the Death Eaters by teaching him total obedience" (along with various more specific requests/brainstorming about what precisely this should entail).

Warnings (enticements?): Initially questionable consent, sex as a means of power, incestuous implications... gratuitous porn...

Enjoy!

)O(

Regulus didn't tell Barty where they were going. He told them that it was all part of making sure that Barty was fit to join the Death Eaters, and Barty – because he was stupid and naive and trusted Regulus more than he liked to say – didn't even think to question it until they were ushered into the sitting room of one of the Lestranges' manor houses, and sat down in front of Rodolphus and Rabastan.

"Let me do the talking," Regulus whispered in Barty's ear before the lock on the parlour door clicked shut.

Rodolphus eyed Barty skeptically, looking him up and down over and over again before he spoke. "He looks like awfully young."

"He's just the right age. I was his age when I joined." Regulus smiled at Rodolphus, and ran the tip of his tongue around his lips. "But it was so difficult getting you to put in a good word for me. Remember what I did?"

Much to Barty's surprise, Rodolphus flushed.

"I remember."

"Oh? I don't seem to recall being told anything about this," Rabastan said rather loudly, and the colour in Rodolphus's cheeks deepened.

"We'll talk about that later," he mumbled.

"So I thought," Regulus continued, "that maybe you – and your lovely brother, of course – could make the same offer to Barty here that you made me."

"Offer?" Barty looked from one man to another, trying to work out exactly what was going on, but no one was meeting his eye. His stomach felt like it was sinking.

"All right, then," said Rodolphus, then looked questioningly at Rabastan, who gave only one small nod. "Come on, then, Crouch. Get on your knees."

Barty could actually feel sweat breaking across his brow.

"I... I don't think..."

"You want to be a Death Eater, don't you? You want us to tell the Dark Lord that you'll make a good one, don't you?" Rodolphus settled back on the sofa, stretching his legs out comfortably in front of him and observing Barty's discomfort. "So get down on your knees."

"I can't do that!" Barty was aghast. He turned to Regulus, desperate for him to say that this was all an elaborate prank designed to make him terribly uncomfortable for some sort of laugh. "I can't do this!" How could he ever touch other men when making love with Regulus still made him painfully nervous? How could he ever dare to do something even more wrong?

"Of course you can." Regulus seemed entirely disinterested in his distress. "I told them that you would."

"You didn't tell me!"

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"And I'm saying no!"

"I'm not asking you. I'm giving you an instruction." Regulus's pretty face was set and he fixed Barty with the imperious stare that he did so well. "Get down on your knees and show Rodolphus what you're so good at."

"I can't," he hissed.

Regulus pursed his lips, then put his arms lightly around Barty's waist and pulled him against him so he could whisper in his ear.

"How are you ever going to be a Death Eater if you can't even do this one little thing?" He trailed his fingertips down Barty's spine, raising gooseflesh where he touched him. "If you can't be obedient to me when I tell you to do one simple little thing like this, how can you be obedient to our Master?"

"It's different," Barty whispered. "He wouldn't ask me to do something like this..." Then, swallowing hard, he added, "Would he?"

"He might. He's asked it of some of us."

He began to shiver. The parlour was cold, and even the heat of Regulus's body pressed so closely against his couldn't banish the chill.

"I wouldn't have bothered coming if you'd said what a snivelling little brat you'd brought for us," Rodolphus said, and Barty looked over at him quickly. He had put on an expression of distaste, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "He doesn't seem like he'd be good for much."

"Oh, but he is!" Regulus told him, then dropped his voice to a whisper, low enough that only Barty could hear him. "Now, listen here. If you want me to tell the Dark Lord what a good Death Eater you are, you'd best do exactly what I say. If you leave now, then I'm not saying a word on your behalf, and you'll have to prove your worth to him all by yourself – and we all know that you aren't really good enough to convince him to take you without help."

Barty swallowed. He glanced over at Rodolphus, tall and strong and looking at him with disdain, and Rabastan, thin and pointed and wearing an expression of vague curiosity.

And he thought about the future he would have if he did what Regulus said. A future of serving the Dark Lord in his noble purpose, a future of hard work for what was right. Surely, that would be worth the brief period of humiliation.

Barty sank onto his knees, and Regulus made a small, satisfied noise.

"There, boys, didn't I tell you? He was just a little nervous. Crawl over to Rodolphus, pet." He kicked Barty across the backs of his legs, and Barty scampered forward, keeping his head down, until his knees were aligned with the toes of Rodolphus's boots. He kept his eyes on those boots until Rodolphus said, "Look up; I want to see your face."

He raised his head reluctantly and met Rodolphus's eyes. The look of disdain was still there, but his pupils were dilated and his mouth had curved up into a smirk.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Goddamnit, do I have to explain everything to you?" Regulus asked. Barty didn't dare break eye contact to look at him. "Take his cock out, you stupid little prat. He wants you to suck it."

Barty's cheeks burned, and he was grateful that he needed to look away from Rodolphus so that he could see what he was doing as he fumbled the buttons of his trousers open and pulled his cock out. It was already hard, and longer than either Barty's own, or Regulus's. Thicker too, he thought, and his throat tightened automatically at the anticipated intrusion.

"Come on." Barty felt Rodolphus's hand snake through his hair. "You're not just going to stare at it, are you?"

Barty swallowed hard, swallowing back his nerves, and stuck his tongue out. He flicked it against the head – already slick with pre-come; Rodolphus had been hiding his eagerness very well indeed – then leaned his head forward and let the shaft push between his lips.

Rodolphus groaned and bucked and dragged Barty forward by his hair until he gagged. "Regulus told me you were a good cocksucker..."

The idea of Regulus bragging about what he did for him made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear, but it also sent a little surge of heat through him, much to his horror. He didn't want to feel anything even vaguely pleasant in this situation. He wanted it to be over quickly and painlessly, but not pleasurably.

But he couldn't help it. The rhythm of Rodolphus's hips thrusting slightly against his mouth, his heavy breathing, the way his hands tightened in his hair, and the knowledge that he was being watched by two other men while he did it – it was all like something out of his most secret fantasies. He could feel his cock twitching.

"Oh, look," Rabastan breathed, and Barty glanced up and saw him smoothing a hand across Rodolphus's chest and looking down at him with a hungry glint in his eye. "I think the little cocksucker is enjoying it. I mean, not that I can blame him..." He rested his head on Rodolphus's shoulder and smirked. "But he seemed so reluctant a moment ago... you work wonders, dear brother."

"He's good," Rodolphus said, and there was a catch in his voice. "Regulus wasn't wrong."

"Of course I wasn't wrong." Even without seeing him, Barty could hear the triumphant smile in Regulus's voice. He sounded proud, and even though pride should be the last feeling that anyone on their hands and knees for someone who was almost a stranger should feel, Barty couldn't help feeling proud as well. Proud, and pleased with himself – and his trousers felt tight. Uncomfortably tight. Maybe, if he was particularly good, Regulus would reward him later that night. The thought – and the accompanying mental image of Regulus fucking him into his bed – made Barty groan involuntarily, and Rodolphus gasped and arched.

Don't think about Regulus.

"He really is a desperate little whore," Rabastan breathed.

"I suppose you'd would like to see how good he is too?" asked Regulus, rather smugly.

"Oh, I've got a different idea." Rabastan stood up and moved out of Barty's line of vision, but a moment later, he felt a pair of hands tugging at the back of his trousers, and he arched up, suddenly as eager to feel Rabastan's hands as he would have been if it had been Regulus. "I'm sure his mouth feels good, but he has such a nice little–"

"You can't," Regulus spoke up. "You can't fuck him."

"Oh?" Rabastan gripped Barty's hips hard, his bony fingers digging in. "And why's that?"

Barty half-expected Regulus to say something protective – he's mine, maybe – but all he said was, "He'd enjoy it too much."

Rabastan let out a long, throaty moan, but he didn't protest. He leaned over him until his mouth was close to Barty's ear.

"Count yourself lucky, then," he breathed. "I would have torn you in half."

Barty didn't say anything, but the disappointment was enough to almost make him want to cry. His cock throbbed. He felt ignored, neglected, desperate. He didn't want to have to wait until later that night for Regulus to see fit to give him what he needed. He ached for penetration. He ached for the feeling of a hard cock pounding into him, hot and rough and painful, to put an end to the dreadful, itching anticipation. He could have screamed when he felt Rabastan press his erection against him through their trousers.

"Christ, Rab," Rodolphus gasped, and Barty felt his thighs tense on either side of his head. Rabastan rocked his hips at a quick, almost frantic pace, punctuating each rock with a small, quiet groan. When he pushed forward, Barty's whole body was jolted forward as well, forcing Rodolphus's cock deeper down his throat.

Rodolphus fucked his mouth, and Rabastan rutted against his arse, and then Regulus's hand slipped under him and fondled the aching bulge in his trousers.

"You're really getting off on this, are you, you little slut?" he breathed in Barty's ear. "I don't think I've ever felt you harder. Do you enjoy being used, then?"

"Mm- mm-hmm," was all Barty could manage. He pushed his crotch against Regulus's hand, and oh, god, he was so close!

"Don't you dare." Regulus dug his fingers in, making him jump. "Do you understand, slut? You can't come over this – over them. I'll punish you if you do. I swear to God, I'll whip you until you can't sit down..."

"Harder," Rodolphus panted, and then he cried out and pulled Barty's hair so hard he could feel it being torn from his scalp, and then Barty's mouth was full of his sharp, salty taste, and that was all he could take. He felt the warmth and wetness in his trousers even before the wave of pleasure rushed over him.

Rodolphus pushed him back hard, and Regulus grabbed him by his shoulder and forced him flat onto his back, then straddled him, pinning him to the floor – as if Barty had the energy to try to fight him off.

"What did I just say?"

Barty couldn't even make his mouth work to say that he had been trying his hardest, and that he couldn't help having finished; it was just all too much. All he could do was lie on the ground and pant and look up bleary-eyed at Regulus. His face was flushed, his eyes gleaming, and the front of his trousers were marred by a damp spot very like the one that Barty suspected he was now sporting.

"Jealous, are you?" Rodolphus panted, and Regulus whipped around to look at him. "Are you jealous that your little slut's better at serving than you were – or that it seems he likes Lestranges better than Blacks?"

"I'm not jealous." Barty thought that he sounded defensive, and he stood up, brushing himself off. "I brought him here to get you off, didn't I? I'm not about to be jealous because he did his job well."

"Yeah, of course." Now that Barty could see Rodolphus, he could see that he was wearing a surprisingly broad smile. Rabastan had rejoined him on the sofa, breathing heavily, shining with sweat, and still tenting his trousers, and he was practically clinging to his brother. "Now, why don't you two run along and leave us alone – I think you've proven your point."

"Will you–" Regulus began, and Rodolphus silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Of course, we'll be sure to tell the Dark Lord that we think little Mr. Crouch will serve him wonderfully."

)O(

Fin