Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The End Is The Beginning Is The End	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 52609 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Harry Potter or Harry Potter related nor do I profit from any of these stories. They are purely for fun.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author’s warning: from here on out expect a lot of things that could be triggers, like rape, or psychological/physical harm.
‘pretty dreams, just beyond the slumber gate…’
Lucius rolled his head around, getting rid of the crick of his neck. Immediately he felt the stiffness fade away.
It was not the most elegant form of stretch, but he had been at this for hours. She was stubborn. And that pleased him, because the pleasure in breaking her would be that much more delightful.
He watched her, curled into tight ball, naked and still. She was still conscious, quietly singing to herself. Any onlooker would think that he had already met his goal in breaking her. But he had been doing this for years, and he knew there was quite a ways to go with this one.
She was singing to herself as a way to cope with what she had just experienced. It was not uncommon, and he had seen it before.
‘…weary you must be with play, running, running all day…’
Her words were pretty, and were an accurate assessment of his self.
He leaned against the wall, entirely comfortable with his nudity. He took the time to reach for the pack of cigarettes on the mantle—not the muggle kind—and used wandless magic to light one.
Immediately he felt himself relax. Such was the side effect of these cigarettes. Relaxing. And eventually, energizing. Like some kind of drug.
He held his left arm away from himself and crossed his right arm across his chest.
And then lowered his eyelids to study the young woman.
Bloody lacerations covered her entire back, from neck to ankles. They crisscrossed in a diamond-like pattern. He found the sight of them satisfying. Because he put them there. And what a pleasure it had been….
Two hours earlier:
‘Welcome back, Ms. Granger.’
Hermione stared in wide-eyed shock.
Of course she would be shocked. He savored the expression, just as he savored her beauty: long hair, curling and long, like a child’s. It lent her a piquant charm that made what he would do all the more perverted, and he delighted in that. He could already feel his heart beating faster in excitement even though he projected an image of calm cool.
And there is nothing childish about her.
He slowly let his eyes roam over her body—purposeful, of course. His gaze made many people quake, and it was heightened by the mere fact that she was defenseless, clothed in very little, and of course, female. Women were always more uncomfortable when…objectified in such an unashamed way.
His gaze lingered on the V between her thighs, barely visible through the sheer material. And then upwards, to her breasts….yes those would be a nice handful. Not small but not too big…and then her nipples. They were jutting out, because this chamber was cool in sharp contrast to the hot bath she just experience.
Ever brave, she stuck her chin out and raised her head. Ms. Granger was certainly living up to the rumors. She would not let a little eye-fucking get the best of her…
Too bad for Ms. Granger, that was not what he intended this evening.
‘Care to have a seat?’
He waved her over to a chair.
She did as he requested, shifting to get comfortable.
‘I apologize for the treatment of my…servants. They have no respect for the situation.’
‘And what is that?’ she coldly said, again shifting to get comfortable.
He resisted the urge to smile, because each time she moved, her tits shook, pushing against the sheer fabric in a way to make them very, very visible.
It was a tantalizing torture, and he felt his cock stiffen in response. But was it to her delicious body, or the mere fact that she was sitting in a special chair, of his own design, that was impossible to ever be comfortable in? To remain still for too long in any position would only result in agonizing pain.
Lucius congratulated himself on this little invention, though he doubted he was the first.
‘Ms. Granger, you possess important information. As such, I have the unfortunate task of extracting it from you. I will give you a chance: tell me what you know.’
She leaned forward, glaring at him, ‘And what? You go kill my friends, but after killing me?’
He leaned back and laughed, a light, almost girlish laugh, ‘No no Ms. Granger, of course not.’
A few moments passed, and he let this sink in, before adding coldly, ‘I would hate to dirty myself. I shall leave that task to someone else.’
She leaned back and muttered under her breath, ‘Crazy bastard.’
‘Now Ms. Granger, I gave you your chance. I assume you are not going to accept my generous offer?
He waited a moment, and she glared at him.
‘Very well. I am going to institute a number of rules. For instance, there will be no back talk, no muttering beneath your breath. My position demands respect, and while I understand it is difficult for you, being mudblood, to control yourself, I expect you to follow the rules. There will be no frowns, no crying, no moody or angry looks.’ His grin broadened, ‘In the past few years I have become a very happy person, and do not want any negativity. Anything to break these rules will result in punishment. ‘
She laughed, ‘Oh god, you are fucking crazy.’
He raised his wand, and murmured, ‘Sectumsempra,’
She hissed in pain, because she felt a cut—a small one—appear on the back of her wrist.
‘Where are the Weasley’s located?’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied.
He sighed, and again said, ‘sectumsempra’
Another laceration, along the back of her arm.
‘Again, give me their location,’
‘Fuck.You.’
He stood, fingering his wand. She glared at him.
His face fell, ‘I see. Well then…’
He lifted her up, by wrapping his hand around her neck, and began to squeeze.
Unsmiling, he stared at her.
She began to claw at his hand, and just as she felt her world begin to blacken, he flung her across the room.
Coughing, she rolled onto her side.
And he unleashed a long stream of curses.
Hermione screamed. And she screamed, and she screamed.
He did not stop, even when she began to beg, the pain was so great.
It lasted or so long, that she felt as if she were going numb to the pain.
What is happening to me?
He came up behind her.
And he tore the shreds—because that was all that remained of the garment she had been wearing—and flung them away.
‘Now Ms. Granger, tell me what I wish to know. Or you will bring your own misfortune down upon you.’
Hermione had no idea how she had the courage to say it, but she did, ‘I would rather rot.’
He sighed again.
And she immediately began to regret her choice.
Whydidn’tyoutellhimwhywhywhywhywhywhywhwywhywhywhwyhwy???!!!
She was burning everywhere—but her body went cold when she felt something big and hot pressing against her.
Oh god.
Oh god.
No.
Not that.
‘Wait I—
Without any preparation at all, he thrust his cock into her—and it was big—and a tearing, hot pain filled her. She felt like vomiting. Nausea tore through her as her stomach felt as it had been punched.
She began to fight, try to crawl away, escape somehow—
But his fingers held her hips in a bruising grip.
He wouldn’t let her go.
And she couldn’t recognize that high pitched scream anymore than she could understand it—
But Lucius, who was biting his lower lip and grinning as he began to ruthlessly rape her, understood it—
She was begging for god, for someone, anyone, to save her.
When he finished, and he had spent his seed in her, he crooned softly in her ear, ‘There is no such god, because I am god, and I do not save filthy mudblood whores.’
He pulled out of her, and watched as she flopped uselessly on her side.
And then he went to his place by the wall, with a mind to smoke while watching his victory…
__
What do you think? Any ideas?
This story will involve heavy elements of twisted torture, in particular psychological torture. I used the blood spell as a means of inflicting pain but I hope that I can convey the extreme damage he will inflict through words. He is going to try to break her, because she is stubborn.
The song Hermione is singing is actually part of a French children’s lullaby called ‘Come, Dreams’
- 13
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- 15
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The End Is The Beginning Is The End