[personal profile] noisywallflower
Kink: Watersports
Fandom: Harry Potter

Things hadn’t turned out as most had hoped for. The battle at Hogwarts had been a bloody one costing many lives and the Boy Who Lived had not been among the survivors. The Death Eaters and other supporters of Voldemort had celebrated their glorious victory for days, feasting and toasting many times to their victorious Lord. Harry Potter was dead, but the ginger-haired Ron Weasley and the incredibly brainy Hermione Granger were still alive and breathing. Whether or not that was good for either of them was yet to be found out.

It probably would have given them both great comfort if they had been kept together, but at the moment of their capture Ron and Hermione had been separated. Hermione had no idea what was happening to Ron, but she knew of her surroundings and thinking about what could go on there didn’t paint a very pretty picture in her mind.

At first sight the room could have been seen as beautiful, even glamorous. It was furnished sparsely with only a couch and a four post bed. The couch was vintage in style, something a flapper might have fainted on from excessive partying. It was green and velvet, the little bit of light that illuminated the room played on the fabric quite nicely. The bed was king-sized, plenty of room for more than one person to lie on. The comforter that draped over the bed was green velvet much like the upholstery on the couch.

Hermione could appreciate the softness of the green velvet comforter. She was spread out on the bed, not a stitch of clothing between her and the plushness beneath. Each wrist and ankle was bound to each post of the bed with invisible, magically created ties. It spread her into an uncomfortable position, displaying every inch of milky, pale flesh to anyone who might enter the room.

The cool air breezed over her body. It almost tickled her sex and it bit at her nipples, making the little peach nubs harder. If it wasn’t for the situation, everything might have been pleasantly arousing, but Hermione knew that something bad was going to happen. It was only a matter of time and the waiting was killing her.

“What a pretty girl...” A voice spoke up from the shadows. It was saccharin sweet as if intended for a baby, but there was something about it that sounded cruel and mocking. Only by hearing this voice did Hermione know who her tormentor might be - Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione gasped a tiny breath of air, trying to tilt her head just so that she might catch a glimpse of Bellatrix.

Bella looked like a model in a La Perla advertisement, sexy and beautiful in the black lace corset and panties with a satiny robe draped over her lithe form. Her black hair was pulled away from her face, perhaps with a clip. Hermione could not get a good look, though she certainly tried.

Bella leaned onto the arm of the fainting couch, letting the robe slip away and onto the floor. She had a predator’s smile on her face and her dark eyes had madness dancing in them. As Voldemort’s best lieutenant she had been given a choice between Ron and Hermione. Hermione had been in her dreams and many of her fantasies. It had been an easy choice to make. Now the frizzy-haired Gryffindor was laid out before her, at her mercy. Bella was free to do anything she wanted. Hermione’s helplessness made for quite the aphrodisiac.

Crossing the room, Bella abandoned her robe and left it lying on the floor as she eliminated the space between Hermione and herself. She took a seat on the edge of the bed. Hermione had so many insults that she wanted to hurl at the Death Eater, but she remained silent except for her ragged, fearful breaths.

Long, bony fingers grazed Hermione’s skin as they traveled from Hermione’s temple to her trembling lips. Bella smiled at the reaction she had produced. Her hand then traveled down slowly, torturously from Hermione’s face to her hard little nipples, to the curly patch of brown hair that concealed her sex. The journey ended there as Bella slowly pumped two fingers in and out of Hermione’s sex. Hermione took in a gasp and cursed quietly.

“Happy to see me, aren’t you, pretty little mudblood?” Bella smiled in an almost sweet way. Hermione summoned all of her strength to put a hateful expression on her face and nothing but anger in her eyes.

“No.” She growled, trying desperately not to writhe under Bella’s touch. Bella tsk’ed like a disappointed mother, shaking her head and withdrawing her fingers from Hermione to wave one at her like one might do to a misbehaving child.

“Crucio.” She stated the curse quietly, in a gentle but still forceful tone. Hermione was taken over by the curse, writhing on the bed, though her arms and legs remained in the places they were bound to. She screamed through gritted teeth, squinting her eyes closed so tightly that it almost hurt to do so. Bella looked on, only smiling at the pain she was causing her new toy.

“I do wish that you hadn’t made me do that.” She cooed in a baby voice, putting her palm to Hermione’s cheek and getting some of her juices on her skin in doing so. Hermione’s breath still came in short, ragged breaths from the pain of the curse. Every joint ached, her skin burned, and her head felt as if it was being crushed in a vise. She swallowed hard and tried to slow her breathing.

Standing, Bella worked her fingers over the lingerie she wore. Undoing a few clasps, her breasts fell free and her corset fell to the ground. Her panties fell to the floor with a tug and a wiggle of her hips. She smiled, naked as a jay-bird. Hermione could only wonder what was next.

“Don’t try anything, little mudblood. You must remember who it is who holds the reins, here.” Bella climbed onto the bed. Slowly, she straddled Hermione and sat so that her face was just above the young witch’s sex. Bella pulled back. With her hand she parted her way through the curly brown patch. Her tongue flicked at and explored the folds of her sex. Tiny moans escaped her mouth as she went to work on Hermione and Hermione had to work not to moan along with her tormentor.

Bella kissed and licked and even nipped gently, getting pleasure as the girl beneath her squirmed and writhed. This, though, was torture and Bella would make sure that it stayed that way. She pulled her face away, denying the other witch her pleasure with a cruel little smile.

“If you’re good...” She trailed off, knowing that Hermione caught what she meant to say.

Hermione thought that she knew what was happening as Bellatrix climbed up to sit and hover just above her face. It repulsed Hermione to imagine pleasuring another woman, but especially Bellatrix Lestrange. She made a sour face, knowing that her tormentor could not see her expression, and swallowed the lump that had taken a place in her throat. Hermione, though, knew nothing about what Bella would do next.

Something wet and foul-smelling splashed at Hermione’s face and, knowing what it was, she cried out in disgust, struggling to cover her face with her hands though it proved impossible.

“Swallow it all, my little girl,” Bella’s voice had risen just slightly, becoming a bit louder, and Hermione could hear the arousal in her tone. Hermione gagged and shook her head from side to side so furiously. She gasped, unintentionally letting piss into her mouth as she did so. The stream soon tapered off and Bella let out a tiny cry of pleasure, sitting back onto the top of the pillow on which Hermione’s head rested.

“Now,” Bella leaned down to lick the acrid smelling piss from Hermione’s lips and cheeks. “That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?”

Date: 2009-06-10 05:29 am (UTC)
psychodelicate: this is an icon: it says Psychodelicate with a rainbow background followed by the words "the subtext is the whole point" (Default)
From: [personal profile] psychodelicate
You are insane. Wicked and insane.

Date: 2011-09-15 01:07 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)



September 2010

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