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His White Queen: A Prequel	By : jsu1660n Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18950 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter, neither the characters from the books or movies. I receive no profit from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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A/N: BDSM & Sexual Content, Language up ahead

Prologue

The heavy iron chains bit into her wrists and ankles. She laid face down, spread eagled in an ironically soft bed. The joints in her shoulders ached. Her legs were spread wider than humanly possible. The worst part of it all—she was naked.

It was her own fault she was caught. She had spent yet another late night in the library researching the theories behind spell creation. She was so tired when she left she failed to notice the presence trailing her towards the tower. Before she could react, the bloody coward disarmed and stunned her.

She knew her captor was inside the room with her. She recognized the type of stunning spell he used. It withheld if he left her alone, preventing her escape, and then cancelled whenever he was near.

“Hey, whoever you are, I strongly suggest you let me go now!” she demanded, struggling against the chains. She ignored the warm blood trickling from her wrists and ankles as she writhed against the silk sheets.

She heard his dark laughter and resolved herself to ignore the way her stomach clenched at the sound of it or how it caressed her skin as though it were a possessive lover.

“We both know that is not what you really want. If you did not want to be here, little one, you wouldn’t have made it so easy for me to catch you.”

The nerve of this little… “I didn’t make anything easy. You stalked me from the library and disarmed me when my back was turned. Coward!” As she ranted and raved she failed to notice his steady approach. “How dare you do this to me? Do you know who I am? I am a Prefect, I can have you expelled for this!”

He crawled on the bed, the soft fabric of his clothing ghosting over her bare skin. The light pressure he placed on her back combined with the silky sheets made her shudder slightly…until he pulled a handful of her hair making her scream.

“Do you truly believe it wise to threaten me, little one, considering that I hold all the power over you?”

He smelled so good. It was an undefined scent. Earth, new parchment, the smoke from a heating cauldron. Everything that she loved.

“Whoever you are let me go now and I promise I won’t have you thrown into Azkaban for assault.”

He laughed softly. His warm breath tickled her ear as he whispered. “It’s not assault if you really want it.”

“I don’t want it! Please, let me go!” his large gloved hands stroked her arms and teased the undersides of her breasts.

“Do you know what I always loved about this castle?” he carried on the conversation as though she were not screaming and begging for freedom underneath him. “There are so many undiscovered chambers and pathways. Why, a student could stumble down here and no one would ever see her again.”

She stopped struggling as his underlying threat began to sink in. “Please, please don’t,” she whispered.

“Now, now, don’t cry,” he cooed. “You should save your tears for when you really need them.” His weight disappeared from her back. He stood over her, his burning gaze trailing over her body. “I would gag you to give you something to bite down on, but I think that I will enjoy your unhindered screams more.”

Her captor stood over her silently. She felt the change in the air around her. The force of his magic was hot and consuming.

“I have watched you from the first day you came to Hogwarts, you know. Everyone was so enthralled with you. The Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws especially. Hell, you enamored even the Slytherins. You turned out to be quite the snake charmer.”

He sounded envious, suspicious, and grudgingly admiring, all at once. A loud cracking sound tore through the air as a burning pain erupted all over her back. She screamed more surprised than hurt.

“What are you doing?” she screamed.

“I am giving you what you want, dearest,” he said sounding almost incredulous.

“But I don’t want this! I don’t!” she cried, pressing her face into the pillows, wishing it were all some horrible nightmare she could escape.

“Liar, liar,” he taunted. “You like for everyone to see you as this perfect girl, attentive student, teacher’s pet, everyone’s best friend, but I see it. I see the blood on your hands, the pain in your thoughts, the blackness and misery of your heart. It’s the reason you turn to girls, isn’t it? Because you have yet to encounter a man, a real man that can dominate you.”

“No, you’re wrong,” she argued.

The whooshing sound filled the air, as what she expected was a multi-tailed flogger impacted against another area of her back.

“Please stop."

“This won’t be gentle. In fact, I expect you will beg, cry, and scream all night, but by the time it’s done, you will beg me for more.”

The third strike came swiftly and just as hard as the first two. She bit her lip to stop from screaming. She would not give him the satisfaction. The flogger moved lower, striking her ass. The pain was no more than a sting, but grew more intense with each lash.

“So quiet,” he murmured. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”

“Piss off,” she hissed.

His gloved hands suddenly gripped her claves. Despite the steady fall of the flogger’s tails, she remained perfectly still as the coarse leather of his gloves trailed up the back of her thighs.

“What?” she trembled. “What are you doing?”

“Let us see just how much you’re notenjoying this.”

His hands withdrew from her for a moment. When he touched her again, she shuddered. The gloves were off, so to speak, and his hands were large with thin, long, and incredibly soft fingers.

He moved his finger back and forth over her slit aware of the delicate trembling of her thighs. “Oh, yes, you really aren’t enjoying this,” he said wryly. “You are practically ruining my sheets with your obvious hatred of what I am doing to you.”

A soft moan fell from her lips when one of his fingers slowly entered her warm center. She blushed, ashamed of her weakness as her walls clenched around his finger. His finger slid in and out in a torturously slow pace. She felt sick with herself. How could she enjoy something so painful and demeaning? He should be locked up for what he was doing to her.

“Chartis mobilius,” he whispered.

She translated the words in her head. Moving sheets? What the hell does that mean? She got her answer when the silk sheets beneath her started to move like hands. The sheets caressed her face, her arms, her legs, her stomach, the top of her mound. The flogger was beating her raw now and the burn was nearly unbearable, but combined with the smooth sheets caressing her, the pleasure/pain ratio balanced out.

It was too much. The flogging, his long finger sliding back and forth inside her. the heavy chains cutting into her skin and tightening if she so much as inhaled too deeply. The soft sheets that stimulated her stiff nipples and tender breasts.

She screamed out her climax, gripping the chains, desperate for something to hold on to. Every cell in her body felt alive and sensitive. A light sheen of sweat covered her body, making the smacks of the flogger louder.

Her captor was quiet. Too quiet. “Will you let me go now?” she whispered.

“Let you go?” she could hear the smile behind his voice. “Why would I do that? You and I are far from done, little one.”

He pulled the pillow out from under her face, making her fall even lower into the bed. He wedged it under her waist and she groaned as the chains pulled her body tighter.

She could hear the ruffling of clothing behind her. “Anxious?” he laughed when she began rubbing her throbbing pussy against the pillow.

“Please,” she said as the last of her will crumbled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” She felt his hard cock drag back and forth against her clit. He stopped just before she could come again. “You’re going to have to say that again for me.”

“Please, please fuck me!” she whined.

“Since you beg so beautifully…”

But he didn’t enter where she needed him the most. Instead, he forced the head of cock inside her tiny, pink rosette that stretched around him like a rubber band. It had been so long since she was fucked there, and the memories of it made her cry and thrash in panic.

Her captor stopped moving and she just knew he would be angry with her for fighting him after she had already given in.

He surprised her by stopping the flogger and caressing the back of her neck. He waited until her choking sobs turned into nervous hiccups.

“Who do you belong to?” he spoke softly, with just the slightest hint of a warning.

“Y-you,” she hiccupped.

“And whom should you be thinking of?”

“You.”

“Have I ever hurt in a way that you didn’t enjoy in some way?”

“No.” In retrospect, her fear and panic seemed ridiculous. He could have done much worse to her.

“Then what do you have to fear?”

“Not pleasing you.”

“Precisely.”

He grabbed her hips and started fucking her slowly. Her fear dissolved completely and her cunt started to clench again and again desperate for his cock, his fingers, anything! He enjoyed fucking her like this while she couldn’t move. The flogger resumed its strikes. The blows would fall in sync with his thrusting. A shot of pain and then a thrust of pleasure. She felt his muscles flexing as he struggled to maintain control over his own climax.

She was not so lucky. She came in a way like she had with no one else. She felt her walls clench and spasm. Her come gushed out of her like a geyser soaking his thighs. He withdrew from her and slammed inside of her sopping wet pussy. He was thrusting so hard and fast in her. Her limbs had stretched to their maximum. She thought she might die like a prisoner in the rack.

“Don’t come yet!” he ordered.

She whined pitifully. She was so close! Why did he make her wait? In her head, she started reciting every spell she could think of, just to keep from coming and…oohh, did he have to rotate his hips like that?

“Come!”

He barely managed to get the word out before her cunt held him in a near painful vice grip milking him. He came with a shout as she shuddered around him, losing consciousness.

When she opened her eyes again, the flogger was gone and her arms and legs were free. He was lying in the bed with her head on his chest and his arm around her waist. The moon shone brightly through the window, illuminating his dark coffee colored eyes. His raven colored hair was tousled and glistening.

“She awakens.”

“You sound disappointed,” she says, stretching her limbs like a kitten.

“I am. I was ready to tell everyone that I had placed you into a come-coma. Oh, well, there is always next time,” he sighed.

“You are incorrigible. What time is it?”

“About four hours before you have to get back to your tower.”

He grew reflective. She knew what he was thinking. “It won’t always be that way. I know I will get over what he did because I could never deny you anything.”

“Of course you will. I will do what you uncle couldn’t, what he refused. He didn’t realize it at the time, but he touched what was mine. Death will come to Gellert Grindelwald slowly,” he promised darkly.

Her heart swelled as he promised her the one thing she wanted since she was five-years-old. “I love you, Tom,” she whispered, gazing into his beautifully dark eyes.

“I know you do, dear,” he said, patting her head as if she was an adorable puppy who had just brought him his morning paper.

She lowered her head to his chest and bit his nipple, just hard enough to make him gasp.

“Naughty little witch,” he growled, smacking her still sore ass.

“Oww, Tom, that hurt,” she laughed weakly.

“You are lucky I didn’t break out the flogger again.”

“How many tails did this one have?” she wondered.

“Twenty-six.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “That explains a lot.”

“Enough talking, sleep now,” he ordered, clutching her against him.

She listened to the rhythmic thump-thump of his heart and the soft breaths he took and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
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His White Queen: A Prequel