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A Mudblood\'s Tuition	By : dazedbutamused Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > General Views: 10895 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter kingdom, nor the characters contained within unless original. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1-A Mudblood's Tuition
- 1
A Mudblood’s Tuition

Killian Moran loved his life. After growing up poor as one in a brood of children to his undereducated parents, Killian made something of his life. Always a bit odd compared to his siblings, Killian loved to study the world around him and he was a dab hand in the kitchen. Killian was a wizard and quite an accomplished one at that. Yes, he did rather well for himself indeed.

At eleven years of age, he discovered the extent his magical abilities when he attended a magical school in Ireland. He took to all magical subjects from the start. He excelled in Herbology, Potions, Charms, and Arithmancy. Having grown up helping to care and feed the family’s herds, Magical Creatures class was a snap, and being good at Charms helped him grasp the concepts of Transfiguration. By the time Killian matriculated, he was in the top ten of his class--but always first in Potions.

Killian moved to the big island of Briton to pursue his Mastery in Potions and after a brutal apprenticeship of eight years with one of the nastiest but talented Masters, Killian received his papers as an Elite Master. Killian moved to a rural area in Scotland to cultivate his own ingredients and to raise his own magical stock needed for difficult and restricted potions as well as give him room for expansion should he need it. He continued his work on his Mastery project trying to refine his creations.

Killian wasn’t concerned with wealth in the beginning. He lived more than comfortably by contracting out his wares to various hospitals, private Healing Groups and magical educational institutions. His products were in demand. His skill was renowned in all the right circles. But Killian was more concerned with the successful experimental results of his potions… And that meant test subjects.

It started off innocently enough. He needed bodies and well, there was a Black Market for human trafficking. He paid well enough for the bottom dwelling test subjects he first acquired. If his testing went pear shaped, he could pay to have them returned to the streets, back alleys or prisons from whence they came. As his skill grew, more desirable test subjects were needed and obtained with little trouble. After all, Killian carefully cultivated an extensive and dependable network of contacts that served him well as he paid top dollar for their services.

With diligent effort, Killian was moderately successful.   He was able to sell his resulting subjects on the same Black Market he pulled from, but to a more refined clientele. This helped Master Moran make a name for himself as specializing in obscure, dark, and illegal mind-altering potions so potent that just sixteen ounces in a single hour irrevocably transformed a witch or wizard into whatever he desired.

By careful word of mouth, he was getting requests for specific merchandise and the product to maintain it. This motivated Killian to perfect his goods just in time for the formation of The Muggleborn Registration Commission and the rise of the current Dark Lord and his policies. Fate favored Master Moran’s lucrative venture.

Currently Killian obtained his stock from the Muggleborns arrested by the Ministry for the theft of magic. The varying tastes of Killian’s customers allowed him to make use of nearly all the Muggleborns processed as criminals. He purchased them ‘as needed’ for a fair price. The Ministry didn’t question what became of the Muggleborns Killian purchased since it didn’t have to feed and house the filth. Muggleborns were human chattel, a slave class and the money generated by the sale of Muggleborns brought the Ministry a needed revenue stream it could exploit.

Moran justified his enterprise as filling a void in the open market. He was doing society a favor. He was relieving the government from an unnecessary expense while saving the Muggleborns from a horrible existence (at least a conscious one), and by transforming an abhorrent class of beings into something more palatable to the Pureblood Order. After intensive programming, Master Moran sold his stock as expensive surrogates, whores, and personal sex slaves (with requested fixations if needed). He enjoyed every minute of the training process.

Moran also purchased Black Market Mudbloods. Since it was profitable for all involved, no one thought to grass on his little enterprise. He willingly paid three times what the Ministry paid for unregistered Mudbloods caught on the lam. It provided him a world- wide market with fewer restrictions. (Killian tried not to think about what happened to those not yet of age.) Black Market Mudbloods were kept and trained separately from his legal inventory until he auctioned them off to a select group of wealthy international patrons with unique tastes.

Today Killian was particularly pleased. The Snatchers he regularly dealt with delivered some prime stock two days ago. He paid a little above his usual rate for the boy. And at the urging of The Snatchers, Moran paid handsomely for the girl as the blokes insisted she was someone special. Ironically, Killian didn’t like how the feral-looking one was handling the lass. Anyway, the boy responded favorably to Killian’s concoction.

Master Moran had a customer looking for exotic pedigree. With the boy’s dark skin and his long thin frame to match his sensitive genitalia, he’d make a perfect addition to the man’s harem. The boy readily followed all suggestions and performed admirably. Master Moran could personally sing praises of the boy’s oral skills and his tight bum hole. The boy would earn Killian many Galleons once he was fully programmed to serve the client’s specific needs. The boy was eager to please his Master and wouldn’t take long to train.

Confident in that knowledge, Killian turned his attention to the girl. After what The Snatchers said, Moran researched unregistered Mudbloods and then matched them to the various stories and photographs printed in the half dozen rags to which he subscribed.   It was hard to be certain if he had the infamous Mudblood in his possession, but he’d soon find out. She would make him a very wealthy wizard should he decide to sell or hire her out. But first he had to see to her health and recovery. She was much too thin and pale.

                                                                                                ~*~

Hermione Granger awoke groggily and with the sense of dread that told her something was terribly, terribly wrong. For one, she could smell the dankness she associated with the lower dungeons of Hogwarts. Yet she knew she wasn’t at Hogwarts. She was chained by her wrists to a rough stone wall. The floor was cold and unyielding to the tender skin of her legs, and she was naked….. It was this realization that snapped Hermione back to reality.

The cell she was in was dim and contained nothing but Hermione and her chains. Hermione shivered in anxiety and with the chill that surrounded her. Merlin, how long had she been captive? And where were Harry and Ron? Before she could remember anything of import, she heard footfalls outside of her cell door. The key clanking in the lock sent Hermione into a panic.

An older man cautiously made his way into the cell, but Hermione didn’t recognize him. He appeared harmless and fatherly, not much older than her father. He wasn’t unattractive, seemed to take good care of himself, and carried his body with confidence. To Hermione’s surprise he smiled kindly at her. It sent terror through her system immediately.

The man stopped directly in front of Hermione and her chains rattled in response as she vainly attempted to cover her nakedness. He didn’t seem to notice and kept his eyes locked on Hermione’s before he spoke.

“Hello lass” he said softly before taking a knee so he could see Hermione eye to eye. “What’s your name then?” he asked.

“H-Her-Hermione Granger,” Hermione stuttered. Something told her to be honest.

“Ah, Miss Hermione, are you thirsty?” he inquired.

Hermione looked at the man in confusion. She expected interrogation not hospitality. What was he playing at?

“Are you lass? Thirsty, that is” the man asked again.

Hermione nodded dumbly and watched as the man pulled a large phial from his robes.

“What…what is that?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, lass” he explained reasonably. “I expect your body needs fuel and hydration after your ordeal. It’s a harmless potion to meet those needs. Now be good lass and drink it all. I don’t fancy having to force it down your throat, do I?”

It was the way the man’s eyes scanned Hermione’s naked flesh that made her decide to cooperate without a fuss. She knew the dangers of drinking an unknown substance, but it didn’t appear to be poisonous from what Hermione could recall. Besides she was hardly in any position to resist, especially without her wand. She might be able to do some damage before he bested her, but at what cost? She might be able to catch him off guard if she feigned cooperation.

Hermione nodded and opened her mouth to receive the potion. The man smiled and carefully poured the fluid so Hermione didn’t choke on it. It was tasty with a lemony twist, and it felt good going down her parched throat. It warmed her as it made its way into her stomach. The man smiled his approval.

“Did you like that, lass?” Hermione nodded.   “Would you like more?” he asked.

Hermione’s body began to feel better than she felt in months. The Trio lived on the edge of starvation on their quest to find the Horcruxes. If this potion restored Hermione’s strength, perhaps she could make an escape.

“Yes, please” Hermione answered.

The man tipped the second phial down Hermione’s throat, and she found herself swallowing it greedily. She even licked the last drop from the glass lip of the phial. The man chuckled warmly at her action.

The second one was better than the first. Hermione forgot her nakedness and no longer felt the chill of the cell. Her skin felt pleasantly warm and her pangs of hunger were replaced with satiation…. and oddly enough, with the desire for more potions.

The man smiled at Hermione and patted her on the head. Hermione smiled stupidly in return like it was brilliant to be petted.

“Now lass, I need to give you a physical examination. You were in a bad way when we brought you in and I want to be sure you aren’t injured. I have to be sure you’re healthy, don’t I?” the man asked.

Hermione nodded dreamily. She hardly noticed his hand on her left breast gently kneading her flesh and thumbing her hardened nipple.

“Is that all right with you lass?” Hermione simply nodded.

“Well, I can’t unchain your wrists from the wall so I need you to squat on your feet for me,” he instructed.

With a little struggle, Hermione got her feet under her and let the man position her knees in a wide stance. She felt no shame and she basked in the warmth of his approving smile.

“Perhaps you’d like one more?” he asked holding a third phial up for Hermione to see. Hermione eyed it longingly and knew she wanted it badly.

“Yes please” Hermione pleaded.

Hermione didn’t know what was in the potion, but it was delicious and she welcomed it like an addict welcomed his next hit. At this point, she no longer worried it was some sort of poison. She’d never felt this good before.

“There you go lass,” the man said after Hermione licked the phial clean. “Now I need to examine you.”

Hermione smiled happily at the kind man. His hands were warm and gentle as they glided over her skin. It felt good when he parted and squeezed the cheeks of her bottom. She felt giddy as he grasped her breasts, then plucked and twisted her nipples roughly. When she heard herself cooing in contentment, it didn’t seem out of place. All the while, the man explained what he was looking for, but Hermione really couldn’t concentrate on his words. It hardly seemed to matter; she felt too good.

The man stroked the slick lips of Hermione’s sex leisurely as he explained the need for an internal exam of her intimate cavities. She might be damaged there, he told her genuinely, and he didn’t want her to worry. That made sense to her. She didn’t remember her last doctor appointment.

Although Hermione was slightly uncomfortable when his thick finger slid into her quim, the feeling passed as he sawed it back and forth. A second beefy digit caused her pain until his thumb circled her pulsating nub of nerves. She wasn’t sure how long the exam lasted, but she was disappointed when it stopped. The man laughed quietly at the disappointed look on her face.

“Don’t worry lass, you won’t be empty for long, I promise you,” he said with a knowing smile. Hermione didn’t know what that meant, but she hardly cared. Her body felt so-o-o-o good when he touched her.

“Now to check the backdoor, lass. I’m not going to lie to you wee one. It will hurt at first, but you’ll get use to it. And if you’re a good lass, I’ll give you another phial when I’m through. Would you like that?” he asked.

By now, Hermione would do anything for another phial. There was no question about that. Hermione immediately agreed to his bribe.

Strangely her exam began with a thick finger back in her wet sleeve…not that she minded. It felt divine! But when the man seemed to gather enough moisture, he removed his finger and pressed it against her puckered hole causing her body to jump.

“Be a good lass now and relax your bum hole. Just push down as I push in. You’ll hardly notice my invasion,” he advised.

Hermione tried to do as she was told. Soon she felt his finger wiggling inside her before a second one joined it. She groaned in pain but remembered he said it would get better. The fingers twisted and scissored inside her. A third finger followed, stretching Hermione painfully.

“That’s it lass. You can take it, but I’m afraid there’s something abnormal here. I’m going to need to insert something to assist me. Do you think you can handle that girl?” He looked at Hermione with concern. “You seem to be in more pain than usual and I need to check it out.”

Hermione gasped in something that felt a bit like pleasure as that third digit stretched her. It did hurt so something must be wrong. She nodded her assent with eyes glassy from pain…or were they?

Hermione felt his finger withdraw from her and watched as the man pulled out his pouch. She briefly caught sight of a strangely cylindrical object with a bulbous tail. The man reached up and smoothed the worry from Hermione’s brow.

“Don’t fret, lass. It will feel uncomfortable and tight, but it’s necessary. I’ll need to leave it in place to get a reading so let me give you a taste of that potion I promised you. When it’s fully seated in you for a bit, I’ll give you the rest, won’t I?”

His earnestness made Hermione agree as well as the promise of more of that potion.--Maybe mainly for tasty liquid. He pored about a quarter of the fluid into her mouth. Hermione rolled it around to savor the flavor and anticipate the effect before swallowing. The delight was immediate.

“Better?” the man asked. When she nodded happily he added, “That’s it then.”

The insertion of the cylindrical object hurt less than the invasion of the man’s fingers. Hermione felt the last of it slide in as her sphincter muscles tightened around its throat. She glanced at the man in front of her and he smiled in satisfaction.

Nothing happened at first and Hermione relaxed with the lack of discomfort. Then she felt a welcomed caress of the man’s fingers on the wet lips of her folds. He smiled at her then began to pump the bulb in his hand.

Hermione gasped in surprise as the cylinder inflated inside her bottom. The first few pumps only felt strange, but were offset by the petting of her quim. The man watched Hermione’s face with interest as he continued to inflate the object in her bum. Every few minutes he squeezed more air into the object while he stroked her sex and watched her reaction.

Once, Hermione begged him to stop, only to see the disappointment on his face.

“If you can’t take the whole treatment, I can’t give you the rest of the potion” he said sadly as he made a motion to relieve Hermione’s discomfort

“No! No, wait!” Hermione exclaimed in a panic. She really wanted that potion so she would endure.

The man smiled at Hermione which made her feel calmed.

“All right then, just a bit more. You can take it lass,” he reassured. He immediately resumed inflating the cylinder until he looked satisfied. Then he sealed it off and detached the inflation bulb.

“You’ll need to hold that,” he informed Hermione. “Would you like to see?”

Hermione didn’t know what he meant, but he seemed to want to show her. She nodded.

Again the man retrieved the pouch from his robes. He pulled out a large hand mirror which didn’t look like it would fit in his pouch.

“Here, have a look, lass. Your arsehole is stretched beautifully. I think you’ll learn to love that feeling soon enough, I expect. Won’t you lass?”

Hermione stared at the mirror trying to sort out what she was seeing. Her sphincter was stretched painfully wide, perhaps 3 ½ or 4 inches. She couldn’t tell. The lips of her sex were swollen in arousal and she watched as a beefy finger slid in and out of her vagina. Hermione was mesmerized. She’d never seen anything like it in her life. She moaned when the man flicked the inflated bladder in her bum. She squirmed at all the sensations.

“That’s a good little lass. You’ll do just fine, I think.” With his free hand he uncorked the last of the promised liquid. Without prompting, Hermione opened her mouth to receive it.

“You’ve a fine mouth as well. I think you’ll do just fine.”

Hermione didn’t question his words. She closed her eyes in bliss as the potion’s familiar warmth swept through her body. She didn’t notice her hips begin to thrust sharply on the man’s fingers or feel her sphincter muscles spasm around the object inside her, heightening her feelings of ecstasy.

A wave of intense pleasure rushed over her nervous system. She felt the soles of her feet spasm causing her to curl her toes, and her back arched while at the same time another impulse prickled across her scalp right before she groaned out a body and mind numbing orgasm.

The man chortled as he removed his fingers from Hermione’s body after she’d ridden the wave of pleasure to its end. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his finger before patting Hermione’s cheek in approval.

“Good girl, I’m glad you enjoyed that. Hell, I enjoyed that, didn’t I?” He laughed to himself.

“We need to talk now lass. If I can trust you, I’ll let you off the wall. Can I trust you lass?”

Hermione’s shoulders were really aching which she noticed as she came down from her incredible high. She felt uncomfortably full with the plug still firmly up her arse, but the man said she’d learn to love it though. She didn’t want to question him. He was kind and gentle and he controlled what she wanted and craved. She’d be on her best behavior if it meant he’d give her more potions.

The man released Hermione’s wrists from the wall and helped her carefully down. He guided Hermione onto her knees, positioning her knees wide with her hands on her thighs letting her sit on her haunches. Hermione obediently held the position.

“Now lass, do you know how you came to be in captivity?”

Hermione didn’t remember anything past awakening naked in the cell. She didn’t remember any other time she wasn’t in this cell or wasn’t naked. That seemed odd for some reason, but it didn’t bother Hermione as much as it seemed it should. Her whole existence was centered on her time in the cell starting when the man came to visit her.

“Do you know what you are lass?” he asked.

“What am I?” she asked. Hermione was really confused. She was a ‘what’? She squirmed at the tightness in her bum. Then she squirmed again to feel the fullness in her arse. It felt surprisingly right. She noticed the man smile at her antics.

“All right there, lass?” Hermione nodded.

“Well then, do you know what you are?” he asked again.

“No sir” Hermione answered.

“Then let me explain,” he replied. He watched her quizzically for a moment before continuing. “You are a magical creature, lass.--A feral magical creature. You were caught while grazing in my potions garden,” he explained. “Near as I can figure you’ve been doing so for two or three months. I set a trap to catch the varmint who was eating my plants and I caught you.” He smiled gently at Hermione.

Now Hermione was beyond confused. She didn’t remember a thing about what he said. She had no idea where she was or who he was…or who or what she was, for that matter. She didn’t remember being a plant eating magical creature, feral or otherwise. Was magic even real? She vaguely remembered what magic was, she thought…maybe?

“I can see you are confused.” Hermione nodded in agreement. “You are a feral Sugar-tit Trull. While out in the wild, you are like most creatures, completely unaware of what you are.--Concerned only about food, sex and survival. There are very few in captivity which makes you rare and valuable. Once a wizard captures you, you are bonded to your owner and he becomes your master,” the man explained.

Hermione was still completely lost. Was it true? Why would he lie to her though?

“”You see until I caught you, you were a simple-minded creature. But once in my grasp, the magic matured and you became a conscious being. You can think for yourself, correct?” he asked.

Hermione nodded with her brow furrowed.

“Do you remember anything before today?”

She didn’t. She really didn’t.

“And you are most obedient to me, aren’t you lass? You like pleasing me” he said with a smile.

Well, yes Hermione liked when he gave her his approval. She smiled in agreement.

“You see, you are Sugar-tit Trull and you have bonded with me making me your Master. You want me to be your Master, don’t you lass?” he asked hopefully.

Hermione felt safe with this man. She didn’t know why. It felt almost like a compulsion but it felt right. Some part of her thought she should be more cautious, but it was a quiet, faraway voice Hermione didn’t recognize anymore.

“Yes sir, I do” Hermione answered.

“All right then” he said smiling so brilliantly that Hermione mirrored his response. “There are many new things for you to learn, but we will take it slowly.”

The man reached into his robes and Hermione licked her lips in anticipation of receiving another tasty treat only to see him pull something else out. He held it up to her.

“This is a collar and it’s worn by all pets. It shows ownership and you should wear it proudly. You are never to take it off, understand?” he asked as he fitted it around Hermione’s neck. It instantly adjusted to fit snuggly around her throat. It was odd but not a bad odd.

“This is a leash and it attaches to your collar. I use it to lead you around so you don’t run off and get hurt or try to return to your drove. It can also be used to discipline you when your naughty or disobedient or do something to displease me. You don’t want to displease me, do you lass?”

Hermione shook her head no and let her Master attach the leash to her new collar.

“Come along then, lass. I have a kennel ready for you upstairs. If you can behave I’ll make you feel good and perhaps you can earn more of the Trull Treat Potion. You like Trull Treat, don’t you lass?”

Master laughed as Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

“You may walk on two legs, lass. Four legs when I tell you so though.”

Hermione nodded in understanding. Master ruffled her hair and Hermione felt giddy inside. She loved the feel of his touch and it sent jolts through her when he smacked her bottom playfully after helping her to her feet. It was pleasurable enough that Hermione didn’t even mind her bum was still stuffed full. As it should be, Hermione reckoned.   It was as Master wanted it.

                                                                                                ~*~

Killian Moran celebrated his good fortune. The girl was exquisite. When she’d been brought in, he cursed his choice when he tested her magic and found she was a very powerful witch. On the other hand, the Mudblood was a virgin which meant a fresh canvas with few memories to interfere with her programming. Master Moran was an arse man as well and the girl possessed a rather lovely one. But calibrating how much potion to give her was theoretical since he’d never altered such a powerful subject. If nothing else, the lass was a challenge he’d accept.

During Master Moran’s initial session with the lass, he thought he’d overdosed her. She appeared to resist the first dose as she maintained some of her personality. He could see the mistrust in her eyes. He offered her more. She seemed to be weighing her cooperation with her possible escape. The mental process was present in her eyes.   Even after three doses, the girl could still be conscious of pain. Her confusion was her subconscious fighting for control. Even as she craved the potion, she knew what she wanted.

Killian pushed the boundaries of his own protocol in administering the modifying potions to the lass. His own curiosity of how much she could tolerate allowed him to give the girl a dangerously high quantity. To his pleasure, the girl’s ability to maintain a semblance of her personality was serendipity. Moran knew the girl was highly intelligent, but she must have also been a compliant child as well. Perfect for her new role as a submissive, Moran scarcely had to train her to be obedient. It came naturally to her.

Nutritive potions helped the lass gain the proper weight for her frame. Although her breasts were small, they were sensitive and responsive and perfect for convincing the twit she was a Sugar-tit Trull whose magic centered on conditioning her tits so ruthlessly she would be able to orgasm from a simple caress. He convinced the lass that pierced nipples were a badge of honor for those Trulls who could achieve it. With a promise of the heaviest captive rings her nipples could withstand should she achieve her goal, the girl eagerly subjected her nipples to the most painful treatments Master Moran could devise.

The lass was a special project of sorts for Master Moran. He hadn’t technically taken her virginity yet but her holes were well used. She seemed to enjoy it well enough and he was fascinated at how elastic they were. He would take her arsehole first when he finally claimed the girl. He couldn’t wait to fist her and he grew hard at the prospect.

At the moment, the girl was in the training room hanging in a back breaking suspension. Her wrists were tied to her ankles, her back severely arched, and she was hanging face up by ropes wrapped around her upper thighs and around her waist. Since she was a Sugar-tit-Trull-in-training, she was wearing as part as her daily tuition, the most torturous and heavily weighted nipple clamps in his current collection.

Killian liked this particular suspension for he’d taught her to suck his cock by coating it with a phony version of the so-called Trull Treat. She performed brilliantly as she tried to get every last drop of potion from his skin. The lass even allowed him to flog her pussy by promising her a several drops of the Trull Treat. She was learning to become his treasured slut through conditioning with small doses of potion and loads of tender caresses.

Master Moran smiled at the thought of the large dildos working her holes now as she hung helplessly under the influence of the potion. Killian discovered it worked as a decent lubricant which was easily absorbed through the blood enriched walls of her vagina and anal cavity. The lass was his perfect trull made more perfect everyday as she learned all the skills necessary to fulfill his richest fantasies.
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A Mudblood\'s Tuition