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Plenitude	By : HeavyMist Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 60689 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in Harry Potter belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission. I only own the plot.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Disclaimer : The characters and canon situations in Harry Potter belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission. I only own the plot, a pc, and a cat. Damn!

A/N : What can I do when Lord Voldemort INSISTS on saying what’s on his mind? He just took the whole preplanned chapter into a different direction, because he can!   I have more than 5400 hits and only 11 reviews and 23 votes!! It is so discouraging :[ :[

Please Read, Review and Rate?

Enjoy.

HM

P.S. Thank you dear hubby for proofreading, Beta’ing, and pointing out the blunder I had created somehow, in this chapter, it is fixed. xoxoxo

“For Dialogue”

‘For Thoughts’

‘For Flashbacks’

Chapter 11: Near -‘Little’-Death Experience.

The five warming swats were hard but tolerable; the intolerable fact was the throbbing that started in her clitoris when the real punishment began.

Her pants and panties were gone; banished to her room again, she thought. To her utter dismay. Even if she expected nothing less from him, than to dish out a punishing humiliation or a humiliating punishment, whichever, it just made no difference now. She is being shamed and ‘disciplined’, and she had never, in her 21 years of life, felt so debased.

In this position, bent over the couch’s armrest, her anus was up in the air, showing along the perineum, let alone her vulva and her vaginal opening, which were exhibited crudely while he stood behind her. She was totally, entirely, absolutely displayed, to his probing eyes, and she wanted to die, she wanted to go see Harry. She wanted to forget this ever happened. She just wanted to disappear, and never see this bastard again. Ever!

Her degradation was unbearable, worse than the first spanking; at least then, she had the luxury of keeping her thighs closed. Her tears trickled down her cheeks, pain not being the reason; it was this unparalleled indignity of being so vulgarly exposed, like a cheap whore.

She was counting the swats, while her mind was ruminating her position, literally, and her loathing him. The first whack was a bit more stinging than the other five. She deduced that either he wasn’t striking hard, or the paddle was not that painful an instrument after all.

The second thwack made a whistling sound before the paddle landed on her bum, with a thud, in seconds, her brain registered the pain inflicted via her frayed nerves; a growl left her tightly closed lips, she promised herself she won’t give him the pleasure of her screams.

Thwack, …pain….swat….more pain…whack …agonizing pain…her brain was now focusing on the agony transmitted to it. She felt her rear blazing, the throbbing in her clitoris, got lost for a while, amid the intense distressing stimuli. The sensory cells on her sore backside fleshy parts were sending fire, rather than signals, her neurons were trying to deal with the overload, however moisture was starting to ooze, from her vagina opening to her labia minora, and with every strike, the wetness seeped its way to her labia majora, first dribbles leaking its way following gravity and the sharp inclination of her body to the front of her vulva, wetting her clitoris on its way down, to her hairless pubic area, to stop somewhere near her lower belly under her navel. Some other drops of her natural lubricant streamed to her inner thighs. She felt them flowing down, slowly, and she just wanted to vanish.

She forget about her throbbing flesh, she wanted to close her legs, glue her thighs together, but knew she’d be paying for it, if she changed the posture he indicated.

Her eyes and face were as wet as her sex by now, her lower lip cratered by her teeth, and her clitoris out of nowhere came back to life, with every thwack he delivered. His timing was maddening, he waited 15 seconds or so between each strike, as if letting her skin absorb the entirety of the pain, on the fleshiest part of her behind, and holding the paddle for a second or two on her butt, as if to calm her down.

Thwack …agony…Tingling… Wallop …excruciating agony…more tingling…and the more tingling there was, the more her lubricants flowed, the more she felt bereft of her willpower, of her determination not to keel over into her contradictory sensations.

Her scorching soreness in her backside stopped being her main problem. She was now dreading the smacks, because of the itching that was propagating in her nether region, and crawling like billions of ants all over her vulva, to both her labium, and to her clitoris, which she felt grew twice its size, and Godric’s balls, she wanted to scratch herself raw.

Her mind flew into her mental library seeking her knowledge about the female gentalia’s mechanics. She’s sure as hell, her labium are now puffy and red with the blood, congregating and suffusing the tissues and muscles, preparing her for copulation. Like a baboon! Of course her clitoris will throb, isn’t her heart beating fast, she is NOT getting aroused! She is not in whatsoever way excited by this shameful display, or whacking, or him, seeing her in this degrading position, NO ! Hell, NO! No no nonono please ….

The burning spread from the bonfire in her hind end to consume her vagina, until what she feared the most started. Her vagina walls were lengthening and widening, she knew this because she read about it, it is what a woman feels as rippling and fluttering, preparing her for penetration. The undeniable reality was worse than everything she was enduring now. This physiological reactions in her vagina only occur when a woman is aroused, and even if she was ignorant of this fact, her lubricants were a sure enough sign, to make her realize she was irrefutably, and undeniably sexually stimulated and ready.

She did not even want to think about her nipples, they were so hard, so engorged with blood, and there was this nerve that directly connected them to her clitoris that made it all worse. They were itching, tickling, tingling, and throbbing, in unison at this point.

Her body became an ensemble of instruments, an Orchestra under the maestro’s wand. How fitting and on all accounts. The Maestro! Literally Master (or teacher) in Italian. Wasn’t he the Master of everything now? And wasn’t he teaching her a lesson, ‘disciplining’ her? And the maestro’s “baton” with which he conducts the whole wet mess she is in now? It is so similar to a wand, and one might mix the two. A derisive laugh wanted to escape her…

Another strike … she screamed 17 on the top of her lungs, she needed an outlet, and she just couldn’t bear to let her body dictate the rules, and take control. But is it her body or he who controlled this whole torture/pleasure session? Both she surmised. He was using her own body against her.

18…She was nearing the “little death” experience. "La petite mort" they call it in French, because climax is comparable to it, when you cannot breathe, or think, or move, your body stiff, muscles rigid, like in the Rigor Mortis grip, you almost faint while you are totally absorbed somewhere in your mind, or out of it rather! Your soul flying high!

Damn you to hell Voldemort, she was totally oblivious to pain now, she was somewhere suspended between her brain and her approaching orgasm, gliding on her wired nerves. She was in her own zone. Trance! Hellish Heaven, or Heavenly hell? Who the effing cares? She is so going to hear about it from her alter ego later, now that is hell!

Trying to forget her sexual stimuli signals, she was grabbing on straws, thinking of everything and anything to take her mind off what was happening to her body, to her utter horror…in vain!

19…Tingling. Throbbing…. Contractions … Vaginal fluids dripping down her thighs, more throbbing, more leakage, more fluttering….

20… Heart thumping in her ears, eyes open but pupils dilated, and seeing nothing but the blurry black leather of the couch’s backrest, panting breath, sweat film all over her neck, armpits, between her breasts, in her palms, while her fingers were digging crescents in the supple buttery leather, of the couch seat, teeth released her lower lip to let some air into her slackened mouth, since her nose wasn’t enough anymore, eyes dried up for the last 10 minutes…. she fought to stop whatever was connecting her breasts, clitoris, vagina and brain together. Failing miserably.

Hands… cool, soothing, tender, and gently caressing hands on both flaming cheeks, made her quake, his voice reached her ears, muffled at first, like he was miles away, “ beautiful …my pet, you are so beautiful…”

The hands and fingers kept their fluttering all around her buttocks, spreading a cooling substance, and she sighed in relief, “ you did well, I am so proud of you…” he kept on talking, and she couldn’t find it in herself to stand up or to cover her nudity, she was basking in this aftercare. It was calming her down, not only her flaming skin but also her emotional strain.

“ I will always take care of you pet, you were gorgeous my little witch…your ass was cherry red and so tempting to taste…but I do not find pleasure in punishing you pet, you should know this. Hush now, your punishment is over, and your silly behavior is forgiven…. this potion has Arnica in it, it well help your skin heal and not bruise at all, though you might feel sore for a while.”

The potion felt like heaven after the hell concentrated in her bum, Merlin! You can fry an egg on it. The insidious movement of his hands down her thighs, and between her legs, made her want to move away, a hand on her lower back kept her from doing so, or from shifting about, away from him, another order was issued. “ Stay! Don’t move little one, just feel…. You were a good pet, it is time for your reward”.

Relaxing her upper body on the couch, she inhaled deeply then she felt it, a wet flat and somewhat rough muscle moving on her lower back, licking the dimples above her bum, moving softly to the middle and going down the crack separating her cheeks. Her eyes shot open, and she tried to move away, but two firm hands on her waist kept her still, and then, she couldn’t move her legs at all, he must have cast the Locomotor Mortis spell, to keep her in place.

Hands and tongue were working in unison now, to drive her crazy.

Palms on her fleshy cheeks, fingers kneading the surrounding area gently spreading them while his tongue went from the top of the crack to continue down, she was about to howl in protest, when the wet tip circular movements rimmed her sphincter, once, twice, thrice, and then she lost count, when her inflamed vagina and throbbing clitoris flared back to life so suddenly she almost jumped despite the binding spell on her legs.

She heard and felt his hums and warm breath on the ring of muscles, and her whole body was covered with gooseflesh, and she couldn’t but yelp when the same tip pushed in, past the sphincter, deep, deeper, she wanted to scream for him to stop, yet at the same time her arousal was reaching unprecedented levels.

She was so engrossed in the sensations that when a very long tapered finger replaced his tongue, entering her slowly, she did not even protest the intimate gesture. Her eyes were shut and all her focus shifted to that opening which he was filling to the last knuckle of his finger, insidiously and slowly, while his other hand went to her vulva, and massaged her labium. Four fingers, each two of them went to hold and stroke her labia minora, imprisoning the clitoris on either side and in between his fingers. The tiny yet so sensitive organ was out of its hood and erect. Never directly touching it, her vaginal fluids making his task all the more easier, to slide, up and down, held with enough pressure, between his middle finger and ring finger to drive her insane with a building pressure, that just wanted to explode.

She did not know when she started to moan; all she knew was the maddening feelings between her thighs and inside her back opening. Her anus sphincter was now filled with two fingers, while the incessant movement around her clitoris kept on spiraling her higher and higher, and a burn deep, and behind her clitoris pulsed and smoldered, the fluttering of her vagina walls sped up, quivering, trembling, the fingers kept on moving, up and down, gently, teasingly, and …more burning, heat spreading deeper and deeper into her vagina, clitoris, and rectum, all working in tandem to drive her insane with torturous pleasure.

She knows how high the concentration of nerve endings was in this anatomical spot, the anus, yet she never thought of ever experiencing it. She knows it is an erogenous zone. In addition to nerve endings, pleasure from anal intercourse occurs due to the shared wall between the anus and vagina/G-Spot. This is what he was doing to her, allowing for indirect stimulation of the G-Spot or clitoral legs from both sides. She knew the biological technicalities, but by Merlin’s staff, she never felt this intense pleasure in her life. Not even when she masturbated! Her orgasms were shallow, because she only used her clitoris as a means to that end, and now even though she did not reach her climax yet, she was about to faint from pleasure.

A synchronized move from both hands caught her by surprise. The fingers widening her sphincter pushed slowly on the thin-shared muscle wall between her anus and vagina. Two fingers clinched lightly around her clitoris and immediately after plucked swiftly at it with clinching fingertips, one word reached her mind at that same instant “Cum for me pet”, and she died her “little death” with a trembling body, spine arched like a tight bow, a long throaty moan, a snapping of that inner coil that deflagrated a chain reaction between a burning and throbbing clitoris, contracting spasming vaginal muscles, and her anal inner and outer sphincters contracted so hard, she felt both fingers inside almost tearing her apart, the gush of fluid that flooded her thighs was akin to the tsunami after an earthquake in an oceanic abyss.

There was no romantic mish mash of explosions, lights, colors and blinding (big)bangs, and such, which were usually described, with “La vie en rose” as a theme, in those Columbine and Lords&Loon novels, that many of her roommates used to read. Oh, No! There was a lava like simultaneous eruptions, in her brain, and in her sex, wired together by an intricate nervous system, through her spinal cord, spreading a fractal of endless pulsating electric small shocks, rocking her whole being into a molten state, where she could not recognize anything but the crest of ecstasy she was soaring on. She was boneless, spineless, weightless, oblivious to all, unanchored to her body, still every cell in her body was satiated, gratified, and exultant. She was bliss!

His tongue was licking voraciously at her inner thighs, when she came back finally to the land of the living, and herself. She knew her legs were still under the Locomotor Mortis spell, for without it she was sure they would have failed her about now. Sensing his tongue swiping at her drenched vagina, and the slurping sounds made her embarrassed, her face flamed more than her ass. A last tonguing on her opening came before she felt him; slowly stand up, to cover her bent body with his.

The softness of his cashmere sweater on her back, and the silky texture of his dress pants on her back thighs, exacerbated her already sensitive skin. His hands sneaked around her trim waist, under her shirt, then higher, under her breasts, then higher still, fondling her breasts, through her flimsy bra material. His hot breath was wafting on the tiny hairs when he nuzzled the back of her neck, pulling her up and to his chest, one hand sneaked up to her face, tilting her head to his shoulder, and up to meet his lips, locking his lips with hers, tongue invading her mouth already separated lips, seeking her tongue, tasting, conquering, invading and controlling the whole vicinity, with forceful strokes, wrapping his tongue around hers, letting her taste her own climax, on his taste buds, sucking her tongue into his own mouth, to scrape it softly with his teeth.

She moaned between her lips, and into his mouth, until he decided it was enough excitement for the time being. If he continues, he might not be able to stop himself from fucking her raw, just as she was now, bent, wet, hot and ready to receive his achingly hard penis. His little virgin witch, would not be that accommodating now, yet her innocence is enticing him to taint and lick every inch of her skin, and use every opening in her luscious body, and defile and mark her, as his, with every obscenely lustful and indecently licentious deed he could think about.

His beautiful little witch will appreciate the delay, and the outcome. Her neck being nibbled on covered his sinful dark smile. It will be soon enough, but not today.

She needs more teaching sessions; he smirked darkly at the thought. Her pain tolerance is improving faster than he expected though. Her masochistic tendency will bloom, under his guidance and training, into delighting in and needing if not craving the pain he could grant her, for her own pleasure and his.

Her sassy, cheeky and feisty personality drives him to the limit of his patience and need to control her, the way he likes, to tame her fire then see her burst out and explode into millions of ecstatic moans and climactic whimpers under his command.

And the very next day, she will drive him crazy again to control her, torture her with pleasure, blossoming out of the painful gifts he will bestow upon her.

She will learn to enjoy his, paddles, whips, floggers, canes, riding crops, and all the brand new apparatus, custom-made especially for her.

His dungeon is already fully equipped and prepared, just waiting for the queen of his kingdom to step in, and enjoy.

He cannot wait to try the chains and manacles, handcuffs, and shackles, and see her hanging with a blindfold and a gag, while he flogged her breasts, adorned with nipple -clamps, with the median chain connecting them to her clitoris clamp, like jewels on her gorgeous body, squeezing her sensitive spots. Or see her tied to the X cross, and savor her treasures. After, he would order her to go on hands and knees, on that big bed, with a butt-plugs peeking out of anus, while he banged her pussy until she cums screaming his name.

He doesn’t need to imagine her resistance and her unwillingness to obey; she is as stubborn as jackass when she wants to be. He just wants to curb and control her resistance, not break it, or her spirit, so he could continue pushing her limits to the extreme she is willing to go to. He cannot wait to introduce her to the pleasures of the flesh, his blushing little innocent “virgo intacta”.

Her virgin blood alone is worth her weight in gold. What a Potions’ Master could do with virgin blood, how many rituals’ one could accomplish with a drop or two? And it is going to be all his, she will be all his, bonded to him, an unbreakable Blood Bond, binding them for eternity.

Thank all deities that imbecile twit, what was his name already? The Weasley wimped out ape, hadn’t wet his flaccid wand, worm more like it, in her inkwell, –nonexistent worm rather, not anymore, anyway- he thought, sniggering evilly. Should that have happened, he would’ve been in a far worse state than he already is now, next to Albus Dumb-le-Dork, the instigator of the whole merely escaped mess, just because of his mediocre scheming and ineffectual plans, which he’s thankful for, or else his wonderful witch’s life would have been ruined, in addition to his.

Come to think of it, it’s been a while since he last visited that special loo. An evil and malevolent sneer etched his features, thinking of these prisoners’ accommodations. Anyway, he will need to show her what happens to cowardly and conniving liars, she won’t like it, and she sure as hell will be horrified, but that won’t change anything to their fate, or hers for that matter. She will learn to obey, the easy way or the hard way, Hard way preferably, but she will accept that her destiny is to be his.

He couldn’t see himself now with someone else, He waited 2 fucking long years, and it was worth it. Bellatrix Lestrange thought he would pick her as his consort, and in her delusional mind, she convinced herself that because he fucked her, and treated her as his slave for a while, that she was above blame or answering to him. As a result, she acted out of bound, and stepped out of line, almost killing his witch. The pathetic bitch got her punishment. She was all yes Master; yes My Lord, ad nauseum, ad infinitum! She got what she deserved, no one and no body is allowed to touch or harm his property, his pet, his sub, but him.

His intelligent, beautiful, gorgeous and sensually masochistic witch will be worshiped, trained and guided, through his domination and control.

He is a Sadistic bastard, he likes to inflict pain because he enjoys it, it sexually excites him, it is in his blood, since he was a teen, sadism and sexuality were always intermingled, he always sought out those who required pain and enjoyed receiving it, as much as he enjoyed inflicting it.

He needs to dominate and he relishes sadism in the bedroom, or dungeon more like it. He feels no shame and no doubt about his sadistic sexuality, and that is it.

Moreover, What goes hand in hand with his call for Domination is his need for control; he enjoys sensually controlling his pet’s body. The exhilarating feeling to implement such control by pushing the envelope, the right buttons, and the limits, triggering reactions, especially when it is against the conscious will of his pet, yet drawing out her needs, despite her resistance, and see her respond unwillingly, her body basking in her sensual and sexual peak, all because of him.

Oddly, he never sexually or erotically enjoyed or took pleasure from punishing his pet. He is a selfish sadistic bastard, and he sometimes just tries to find some “excuse”, no matter how lame, to inflict pain, like he just did, this was less punishment and more of an impatient need to have her wet and moaning under his paddling. Regardless, he is trying to accelerate her training, and increase her pain tolerance; he is not ashamed of admitting it. He is manipulating her, but the result is worth it…just look at her! His amazingly sexy and succulent sex slave.

Smirking, he imagined the hissy fit she would have, once she hears him calling her his sex slave. Chuckling aloud, he felt his cock stiffening at the “punishment” she would receive because of her temper-tantrum, and the pleasure he would reap from it, not that he likes punishing her. No, this is different; it is a manipulative foreplay of sorts.

His sadism is strictly sexual; he does not find any excitement or arousal in corporally punishing, chastising or disciplining his sub, when it is seriously required.

It is more of a disappointment in his abilities as a Dominant, primarily, because if he needs to punish then he must be failing his duties as one.

Understandably, punishment, for him at least, is not necessarily always a physical or a corporal one. Any sub worth her salt knows that the worst and cruelest punishment a Dominant could inflict on her is to verbalize and voice his disappointment in her; it is more efficient than the most brutal whipping he might employ.

His little witch will learn to make the difference. On one hand, he could be very cruel with the whip, and give her more pleasure in pain, than she would ever have thought possible. On the other hand, he is the cruelest with his words; it is his first chastisement choice.

Other than that, rather than wasting time in punishment, they could both occupy themselves with pleasurable activities.

And thinking of said activities, it is time to teach his novice sub how to pleasure him, orally. Besides he always keeps his promises, and is as good as his word. A wickedly sinful, and licentiously dark smile started in his scarlet eyes, and ended on his lips.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Kara : Heehee. “Wibbly Wobbly” me, when there’s “Technical” Voldemort around …lol. There’s going to be lots of …cough“Technical” cough…LV. to come, brace yourself. ;]

Perfecthought : Thank you for your lovely words, hope I won’t disappoint. :]

Burnedx2 : Thank you for your review, Ah! Voldie is anything but subtle, but we love him anyway, don’t we? . :]
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Plenitude