Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission	By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 58471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with JK Rowling or The Harry Potter franchise in anyway. I make no money off my stories.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around her neck in attempt to shield her face from the blustery wind. The winter storm was fast approaching, and she found herself concerned for Lucius. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. There was no question Lucius could take care of himself, but she still felt uneasy imagining him negotiating the Muggle streets from the Apparation point during such a severe snow storm. He was not used to the Muggle environment, after all. There were cars and street signs as well as traffic lights to navigate; all of which were heavily obscured from the poor visibility. She couldn’t help the mother hen within from worrying. How the weather had changed so much in just a few days was bewildering. Thursday had been cool, but lovely enough for an evening stroll. Tonight, on the other hand, it was like that movie she and Harry had dragged everyone to – “The Day After Tomorrow”. In just the past two hours, the temperature had dropped suddenly, the wind had started to gust ferociously, and snow was accumulating very quickly. She had to shield her eyes from the stinging flurries as she scanned the sidewalk for his arrival.
Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she spotted his tall figure with a heavy black cloak, grey scarf, and a white head of hair approaching. She stepped towards him and reached her hand out, pulling him inside.
“Come in, come in!” she exclaimed as they dashed through the vestibule and into the warmth of the modest lobby. They gave each other amused glances as they shook the snow out of their hair and off their cloaks. “Oh, Lucius. If I had realized Armageddon was tonight, I would have never suggested we eat at my place. Especially since you came from Malfoy Enterprises and couldn’t floo.”
Lucius merely chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Not to worry, my dear. I’ve dealt with and survived greater forces than Mother Nature many times.”
Hermione held no doubt that this was true. She imagined not much would phase the man. There was a time when he had been one of Voldemort’s lackeys and Hermione was not so naïve as to believe it had all been for show. Of course, he had been a very different man back then. She led him to the elevator and, after entering, hit the three. She held her amusement in check when he braced himself and paled as the elevator shuddered before making its ascent. So much for the big, bad Death Eater persona. She gave nothing away as he cleared his throat and straightened his robes. It wasn’t like he had never ridden in an elevator before, but this was a Muggle elevator and to a man like Lucius Malfoy, clearly it wasn’t as safe as the magical version.
“Perhaps we should connect Malfoy Enterprises to my floo, so you can avoid these Muggle inconveniences when you visit from work.” The doors opened as she spoke, and Lucius seemed too distracted by his quest to get them off the death contraption and into the hallway to bother with responding.
Having regained his composure as they approached her door, he nodded and smiled lightly. “Yes, and we should connect your floo to the office at The Dungeon as well. I won’t have you walking the Muggle streets in bad weather and after dark.”
Feeling that was a bit excessive but sensing it was best not to argue, Hermione motioned him inside as she opened her door. “Here, let me take your cloak.” He looked at her blankly for a second, as though he had momentarily forgotten she was Hermione Granger and most certainly did not have house elves for such tasks. He snapped out of it quickly enough and unfastened the cashmere wrap before handing it to her alongside his scarf and gloves.
She walked towards the closet, realizing he didn’t have a hat. Perhaps she would make him one to match his scarf. “I’m so glad you agreed to come to my place tonight. I wasn’t sure you would.” She slipped off her own cloak, hat, and gloves, hanging them next to his.
He cocked his head and looked bewildered. “Why ever not?”
She shrugged lightly, straightening her sweater as she approached the side bar where the bottle of red had been breathing. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought you would insist on the Manor.”
He walked towards her, eyeing how the Muggle jeans hugged her bum so perfectly. “I was happy to accept your invitation, Doll. This is your home and I’m flattered you have invited me to share it for a meal.”
She handed him his glass, checking his eyes for any hint of false flattery. Finding none, she picked up her own glass and, after tapping it to his, motioned them towards the sofa. “I ordered a pizza, but with this weather they may not make it. It might be grilled cheese sandwiches for us.”
Taking the offered seat at the end of the sofa, Lucius sipped his wine. “I’m sure whatever we eat will be delicious. The company is what matters.” He leaned back, eyeing her as she sat next to him. “You look lovely, pet. Black suits you.”
Hermione glanced down at the black, mini cable knit sweater as she collapsed back into the sofa, lifting her sock covered feet onto the glass coffee table in front of them. “I’ve had this sweater forever. It’s a bit tighter than it used to be, but it’s comfortable.” Lucius’ gaze did what any man’s would and immediately scanned how tight the sweater actually was, particularly at her chest. He found it could have stood to be a lot tighter.
His eyes moved back to hers. “So, tell me, how was your evening on Thursday? I meant to ask you on Friday, but our session was rather distracting, and it slipped my mind.”
Hermione smirked as she recalled their session. Distracting, huh? It was much more than merely distracting! All conscious thought had practically slipped her mind as he fastened her to a St. Andrews Cross and proceeded to bring her off with a rabbit fur flogger. That alone would have been lovely, but Lucius had taken the flogging to a whole new stratosphere when he slid a fluttering snitch between her bum cheeks. She was instructed not to let it loose and had to squeeze her cheeks tightly to keep the bugger from escaping or from getting too personal. Her bum cheeks were still sore from the workout. Thankfully, the snitch had been charmed into soft rubber so as not to have caused her injury.
Pulling her focus back to Lucius’ question, she sucked in her bottom lip as a toothy grin spread over her face. Her eyes were alight with excitement as she responded, “I’m happy to say it went very well. We actually talked like competent adults. He was…” Her eyes glassed over a touch before she continued. “He was actually very kind and considerate and...” She pulled herself out of her slouchy position and sat up straight, facing Lucius and pulling his hand into hers. “I can’t explain it. Severus and I…we just click, you know? I mean, it’s only been one date, but I feel like we have a real connection. It feels like we’ve been on ten dates. I feel like I know him.”
Lucius swallowed heavily, maintaining his happy façade for her benefit. It wasn’t entirely a façade – in truth, he was happy for her. He smiled as her eyes danced with excitement and her expressive face morphed from surprise, to amazement, to utter happiness as she reminisced about her date. She was practically childlike with delight as she gushed about the man whom most would call sullen and difficult. How Severus Snape had captured the heart of such a creature…no, he wouldn’t finish that thought. The truth was Lucius knew Severus Snape was a good man. He knew Snape deserved happiness and he always hoped one day a woman would come along who could see past that gruff and standoffish exterior. For underneath was an intelligent, honorable, and good man. The best of men as far as Lucius was concerned. Snape deserved an exceptional witch like Hermione. He deserved his happy ending. Lucius wouldn’t take that away from Snape for anything, but there was no denying it was a big fat pisser that Lucius fancied her as well. He was ok with it, though, and had resigned himself to the inevitable. After all, what choice did he have?
He reached forward to tuck a loose curl behind her ear with his free hand. “I’m happy for you, love.”
Taking the hand that had tucked her hair, she added it to his other; her hands now holding both of his. Soft caramel eyes, full of warmth, looked up at him and whispered impassioned words, making his heart melt. “Lucius, thank you. Thank you for training me, but more importantly, thank you for being such a wonderful friend. If not for you, I might have walked away from this part of myself. I wouldn’t be dating Severus, and you and I probably wouldn’t be the good friends we’ve become. Your friendship has come to be one of the most important in my adult life.”
Slipping his hands from hers, he pulled her close and hugged her tightly. His chin rested on the top of her head as she nestled into him. “Ahh, pet. I adore you…completely! I’m a lucky man indeed to have a friend such as you. You will always have my friendship.” He pulled back and couldn’t stop the words that started to spill. “If...if things with Sever…” His sentence was interrupted by the ring of her buzzer.
“Oh, the pizza!” Lucius was stunned by the speed with which she disentangled herself from his arms and was at the door. He watched as she hit a small button and spoke into a little box. “Yes, this is unit 8C.”
“Uhh, Miss G, I have your pizza. It’s cold as a witch’s tit out here, though. Don’t know how hot it’s gonna be.”
“Come on up.” She hit another button and then dashed across the room to her purse.
Lucius sat stunned for a moment. Stunned by what he had almost said to Hermione and even more stunned by what the voice that was coming through the grey box had said. Cold as a witch’s tit? What in Merlin’s name did that mean? Witch’s tits were typically quite warm, thank you very much! And what kind of a person says such a thing?!
Hermione opened her door and watched towards the elevator before she looked back at Lucius and laughed. “It’s a Muggle saying, Lucius. He meant no offense. I assure you.”
Lucius stood up and walked towards Hermione, his wand in his hand, yet concealed up his sleeve. He didn’t want this Muggle with his offensive words anywhere near his witch. His eyes shot up in surprise when a teenage boy skipped off the elevator towards them. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen and was hardly the dark, hoodlum type Lucius was imagining. “Here ya go, Miss G.”
Hermione took the box and handed him several bills. “Keep the change, Scott. Thanks for coming out on such a nasty night.”
“It’s no problem. You’re just two blocks away. Besides, you’re one of our regulars!”
“Stay warm, ok?” She added as he waved goodbye. She shut the door and scurried towards the kitchen.
Lucius followed behind her and watched closely as she lifted the lid of the box. “Hmm, so that’s pizza, huh?”
Hermione looked back over her shoulder, a surprised expression greeting his curious one. “Well, not just any pizza. This is Luigi’s pepperoni. It’s the best! You’re not about to tell me you’ve never had pizza before! Are you?”
Lucius shrugged lazily. “Can’t say that I have. Draco seems to have found an obsession for it and has mentioned it multiple times.”
Her eyes went back to her task as she pulled out the pizza cutter. “Well, I get to give you a new experience tonight.” Looking back at him coyly, she winked. “Lucky you!”
Hermione picked up the box and led him towards a small round table off her kitchen. He noticed a single flower in a vase placed in the proud and prominent spot of the center of the table. Immediately, he recognized it as one of Snape’s Asphodels. Casting thoughts of the flower aside, he sat down and watched as Hermione cut the pizza with a rolling device and then slid servings onto their plates. He stared at his plate momentarily; a plate that was thin and unlike any he had ever seen. Curious, he touched it and was shocked to find that it was made of paper.
He looked up at Hermione to find her expression full of amusement as she watched him. “It’s called a paper plate, Lucius, and these are paper napkins.” She placed a napkin in his hand that had no embroidery of any kind and, like the plate, was clearly made of paper. “It’s pizza, Lucius. You eat with your hands and its perfectly okay to forgo the Wedgwood on these occasions.”
He looked at her confused. “Wedgwood?”
“As in china? Fine plates?”
“Ah, I see.”
Hermione watched as he continued to study what was in front of him. She waved her wand at their wine glasses by the sofa, causing them to levitate towards and land in front of them perfectly.
Sipping his wine, Lucius watched as Hermione tucked her napkin in her lap and picked up her piece of pizza, taking a big bite. Her eyes rolled in obvious bliss. “Yum! So good.”
Setting his glass down, Lucius smirked a crooked smile as he picked up his slice. “Well, here’s to new experiences.”
“That’s the spirit!” Hermione encouraged as she took her second bite. She watched in anticipation as Lucius studied it before taking a small, tentative bite. He chewed slowly and then his mouth froze momentarily before his chewing resumed at a much more enthusiastic pace. He swallowed and took a larger bite.
Hermione chuckled as she sipped her wine. “It’s good, huh?”
Lucius swallowed and replied playfully, “I’m not sure. I think it requires further study.” He took another large bite and closed his eyes as he chewed.
Hermione wiped her mouth and smiled as she watched him. “I should’ve warned you, Lucius. There’s no going back. It’s like crack. One taste and you’re hooked for life.”
Lucius just looked at her and nodded, taking another bite and chewing his way further into his own addiction. Hermione smiled to herself realizing he would have no idea what crack even was. Then she had to suppress her giggle that he hadn’t cared enough to ask, obviously too interested in his next fix. Understanding his need for silence at such a profound discovery, she let the man eat without further interruption.
At the completion of his first slice, Lucius took a large sip of wine and looked at her with sheer merriment. “This, my dear, is delectable.”
“I’m thrilled you like it. It’s my favorite vice.” Reconsidering her words, she tilted a flirty gaze up at him, “Well, almost my favorite vice.”
Lucius chortled at her meaning as she slid another piece onto his plate. “Speaking of your favorite vice... tell me, Doll. Did you like our scene Friday night?”
Hermione was mid sip of her wine and her eyes grew wide. “Yes! I really liked the cross. I think being restrained is one of my biggest turn-ons.”
Lucius sipped his wine, watching the excitement on her face as she continued. “And the fur flogger. At first, I didn’t see how a fur flogger could offer much heat…but you certainly set me straight on that one.” Lucius delighted in the soft blush that crept over her cheeks as she remembered. “The snitch was…intense”
Lucius merely nodded. “Yes, it was meant to be, my dear. A lesson in control is an important lesson indeed. Despite being submissive and an instrument for me to play, you have more control than you realize. Control I will be teaching you to harness. Particularly, orgasm control.”
Hermione let out a heavy sigh. “Oh boy. I have a feeling that’s going to be hard for me.”
Lucius smiled roguishly. “I can promise I won’t make it easy for you…at least not most of the time.” Lucius laughed at her mock surprised expression.
“You? Make it easy for me? Perish the thought!”
Lucius leaned back in his chair, a teasing smirk on his face. “Oh, but my dear. You see…I have been quite easy on you up until now.” He watched her for moment, her brown eyes looking at him with unveiled curiosity and excitement as her bottom lip once again was sucked into the depths of her mouth. His gaze moved from her lips back to her eyes. “I told you I would introduce you to the kiddie pool and we would work our way towards the English Channel. Let’s just say we are getting there but still have a long way to go.” He reached forward and pulled her lip from her mouth’s grasp before starting on his second piece of pizza. Hermione watched him eat for a moment before continuing with her own slice.
After a couple minutes of comfortable silence, Lucius asked, “So, have you enjoyed your time off?”
Hermione placed her napkin on the table and pushed her plate away, a blissful look in her eyes. “It’s been a wonderful couple of weeks. It’s just so good to get away from work and…decompress.” A radiant smile accompanied her crimson blush when she added, “Of course, you played a large hand in that part.” Shy eyes darted up to his and he mused how she could possibly be shy around him after all they had done. He found it quite endearing.
Her face fell when she added, “Well, except for Wednesday evening. That was…distressing to say the least.” Lucius didn’t say anything. He simply watched her, willing her to expand on that thought. She didn’t disappoint. “I hope to never earn your displeasure again, Lucius. I…I can’t bear for you to be upset with me.”
He reached forward and stroked her cheek. “I know that, Doll. I’m not upset with you. You accepted your punishment and handled it better than I expected. You have been forgiven and it’s behind us.”
Hermione didn’t say anything for a moment and then looked up at him. “Have you thought any more about my proposed compromise?”
“I have, and I am still thinking about it. It’s a long-held rule, Hermione, and not one I intend to relent on easily and without considerable thought.”
Hermione nodded. “I understand. That’s all I ask – for you to think about it.”
Looking at the table and seeing the Asphodelus, Lucius asked the question he really didn’t want the answer to. “So, when are you seeing Severus again?”
Hermione let out a sigh. “I don’t really know. He said he would be in touch, but I haven’t heard from him.”
Lucius could detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. Slipping her small hand into his larger one, he reassured her with words he knew to be truth. “He has a busy week ahead of him, Doll. He’s even working on his birthday. I’m sure he’ll be in touch soon.”
Hermione’s eyes shot up in sudden surprise. “His birthday?”
Lucius let out a mirthless laugh. “Ah, of course he wouldn’t have mentioned it to you. The man seems to despise his birthday. He refuses to even acknowledge it, much less celebrate it. It’s on Tuesday.”
“Why is that?”
“Who knows. He’s been this way for over twenty-five years. I suspect it’s his typical self-loathing. Anytime anyone ever tries to acknowledge it or do anything nice for him to celebrate, a few choice and well placed words from his acerbic tongue quickly puts an end to it.”
“Hmpf. I can imagine.” She wiggled in her seat to relieve the sudden ache between her thighs as her imagination took it a bit further. She could picture it clearly; Severus’ stern look and delicious acerbic tongue reprimanding her, and her innocent birthday wishes as he swatted her with a riding crop.
After a brief pause Lucius’ words pulled her from her errant fantasy back to the man before her. His look was dazed as though he had been lost in his own daydream. His voice was soft as he lamented, “Narcissa was the only one who could make any headway with him, and all she could persuade him into was dinner. Never a cake and never birthday toasts or wishes.”
Hermione fiddled with her napkin, seemingly deep in thought. She looked up at Lucius after a moment, finding his eyes on hers with a continued far-away look.
She picked up the wine bottle and refilled their glasses as she spoke. “I guess this shouldn’t surprise me about Severus, but it does disappoint me.” Neither one said anything for a minute. “It’s Tuesday, you say?”
Lucius seemed to snap out of his daze as he answered, “Yes, the ninth.” He could see the wheels turning. “I wouldn’t make anything of it, pet. I don’t think it will be met with appreciation if you do.”
As five o’clock on Tuesday arrived, Hermione found herself still buried in paperwork at her desk. She had intended to be home by now and her frustration was mounting exponentially with each moment that passed. She had known it was going to be a hellish week for her – having been out of the office for the last two. However, today was the one day she needed to get out on time and as of one o’clock this afternoon she had been pleasantly on track to do just that. Unfortunately, that all went to shit.
Realizing she would have to get home now if her plan was going to fall into place, she tossed her quill on her desk and stood before she grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer. She would simply make it up by staying at work right up until she was to be at The Dungeon tomorrow night and then work until ten on Thursday if necessary. She snagged her cloak as she passed the coat stand and was through the floo to her flat within a moments time. Changing into jeans and a t-shirt, she headed to the kitchen and pre-heated the oven.
Three hours later Hermione entered The Dungeon clad in her mask with the same jeans, a clean white blouse, and her suede black boots. The camel colored cashmere cloak that she had picked up at an after-Christmas sale completed the look. Bucking up her courage, she walked through the club and didn’t speak to or acknowledge anyone, doing her best to adhere to Lucius’ rules of engagement. Yes, she was allowed to speak to certain people, but in truth she was far too nervous to talk with anyone. She’d asked specific permission for her course of action for tonight and had been grateful it had been granted – sort of. If Lucius had said no, she wouldn’t be so nervous right now. If he had said no, she’d likely still have her nose buried in paperwork at her desk. But he hadn’t said no, and Hermione had no clue how well this was going to go. She simply wanted to follow through before she lost her nerve.
Scanning the small crowd, she felt a twinge disappointed Lucius wasn’t there to offer her moral support. Package in hand, she made her way through the back hall to where Lucius had said she would likely find Snape.
Britt sat at the bar, her eyes surreptitiously keeping eye on the hallway that led to the manager’s office. She was waiting for the Dominant she had scened with twice over the weekend. He was younger than she and very eager. What he lacked in experience, he made up for with exuberance and flattery. She was not used to having a young, handsome man shower her with so much attention. Frankly, she never really looked twice at the other Dominants in the club before Friday. She had certainly caught them checking her out. She knew she was an attractive witch and her public displays with Snape had drew many admiring eyes, but Snape was all she had wanted. That was all over now, though. Now that her circumstances had changed, she found her ego could use a little flattery and worship. Master Callum was sexy and sweet and was quite talented with a crop. His repertoire of talents was rather limited, but she was enjoying him all the same. It helped that he was completely smitten with her.
Unfortunately, he was late, and Britt couldn’t help her eyes wandering towards her former Dominant’s direction. It was his birthday and she knew he was here. He always worked on his birthday. Britt had made the abysmal mistake of attempting to lure him away to celebrate a couple times, and she had sorely regretted it. Sorely being the opportune word. It was with a twinge of surprise, a pinch of envy, and then a heaping scoop of mirth that Britt noticed the petite brunette everyone referred to as Doll heading towards the office with what looked like…a cake? Could this be Snape’s mystery woman? Britt recognized her as Lucius’ submissive, however, she knew of two times Snape had scened with the newcomer. There might have even been more times. Whatever this witch was to Snape, she would be in for a rude awakening if she was bringing him a cake for his birthday. Britt couldn’t help her merriment at the prospect. She could picture the wizard’s bilious expression perfectly. It may be Snape’s birthday, but it could prove to be Britt’s night.
Hermione let out a slow calming breath as she stood before the door that said, “Management”. Bucking up her courage, she shook off her nerves, slipped off her mask, and gave the door a light tap.
“Enter.” The command was succinct and stern, yet the voice was unmistakably his. Rich and luscious and… Ugh, get a grip, Hermione!
She tentatively opened the door, balancing the red-velvet cake with cream cheese icing precariously with one arm as she navigated the heavy door with the other. She chided herself as she was halfway through. Geez, you’re a witch! Cast a damn levitating charm!
She cautiously stepped in to see the back of him slumped over his desk. His feather quill was visible over his shoulder. Rapid scratching sounds from the strokes of its sharpened tip proved he was busy with his task. She could hear him dip and tap the quill on the edge of the ink jar as his hypnotic voice droned, “Yes, can I help you?”
“Hi, Severus,” she choked out. She internally rolled her eyes at how this man could still make her feel like a first year, causing her to lose her voice as it croaked out of her mouth.
He immediately spun around, complete surprise etched into every plane and line of his magnificent face. “Hermione!” He stood up and approached her, his voice no longer distant and harsh, but melodic in its rich, singularly delicious Snape-tone. “What are you doing here?” His eyes glanced up and down her form. “I’m afraid Lucius isn’t here tonight.”
She grinned nervously but felt her courage swell when his reaction to her arrival was anything but hostile. “Oh, I know that. I came to see you.”
His eyes moved to the cake as an uncomfortable feeling washed over him, matched with a heavy swallow. She set it down on a table by the door and lifted the lid. Written in green icing over creamy white frosting were the words, Happy Birthday, Severus!
She beamed up at him gloriously. “Happy birthday!” After a second’s pause, she stepped close and pushed up on her tip toes, lightly kissing his cheek. She breathed in his heady, delicious scent as she backed away, desperately wanting his strong arms to grab her and not let her go.
His hand unconsciously went to his cheek and Hermione could swear she saw a flash of desire in his eyes before he seemed to compose himself. “Well, this is a surprise.” His smile was forced and rather awkward, but he wasn’t being rude, and he hadn’t yelled. So, overall Hermione figured this was going quite magnificently.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” She dropped her gaze from him to the cake and then peeked back up at him. “I know you’re busy and Lucius told me you don’t like to make a fuss of your birthday, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know…that your birthday means something to me. I made you a cake – I hope you like red-velvet.”
Snape stood stock still while looking at the cake, not sure what to say. This was why he hated his birthday. He felt awkward and that certain behaviors were expected from him. He didn’t like to be grateful and he didn’t like people making him feel like he was in their debt because they were nice to him. However, he couldn’t deny a small tingling of warmth that crept up his spine when her soft, sweet doe eyes looked up at him. She had made him a cake. How very…Hermione. An awkward smile still in place, he contemplated what to say. You could pretend to be grateful. For her, he could do this. He might not eat it and would simply give it to the staff, but he would be kind. “Thank you, Hermione. That was very…sweet of you.”
There was another awkward pause as they stared at each other for a moment. She ran her hands absently down the front of her cloak. “Oh, um, well…I guess I’ll get going. I know you’re busy.” She started to slip her mask back on when he lightly touched her arm as though to stop her. She could feel the hairs on her body immediately stand on end. His touch was as electric as ever.
His hand fell to his side and he cleared his throat. Had he felt it, too? she pondered.
“Actually, Hermione. I was wondering – would you be free on Saturday for lunch?”
“Lunch?” Hermione hoped her voice didn’t convey the disappointment she felt. Lunch was well and good, but it was usually reserved for friends, not love interests. Right? “Yeah, lunch would be great.”
Sensing a slight unease from her and maybe a touch of uncertainty, he added, “I would much prefer another dinner, but I’m afraid my schedule just doesn’t allow for much else this week. We are completing our financial books for 2006 and I’m swamped with paperwork. Then there’s the day to day management of the club.”
Feeling her nerves settle from his words – Hermione was well aware of how work could interrupt one’s social life – she replied softly. “I understand, Severus.” After a glimmer of a pause she continued, her speech a bit rushed, “I just want to see you. I had a really good time on Thursday, and well…I want to spend more time getting to know you.”
She was rewarded with a soft and rare genuine smile.
Snape was touched by her sincerity. It floored him how open and unguarded she was. It was…bewitching. “I had a wonderful time as well, Hermione. How about I owl you later this week with details. Perhaps we can make an afternoon of it?”
The beaming smile he coveted was unleashed as she responded, “That would be great. I’ll look forward to it.” She wanted to throw her arms around him, but if she did it might lead to a kiss and who knows what else. She had promised Lucius any touching would be minimal. The kiss on the cheek she had already bestowed was probably pushing it. One thing was for sure, she would tell Lucius about the innocent peck before Snape had a chance to. Snape seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he opened and held the door for her, all while avoiding touching her.
Britt was only half paying attention to Master Callum as they talked at the bar. She was curious as to what was happening in the office and with every passing minute found herself stunned the petite witch hadn’t come rushing out in tears or looking shaken or angry…or something! Surely Snape had rained his wrath on her by now! So, it was with utter shock and not a small bit of jealousy that Britt watched with absolute amazement as the petite witch walked out smiling. Not only smiling, but there was also a calm and pleasant appearing Snape walking beside her?
It was in this moment that Britt understood she might have misjudged the situation. There were a few possible scenarios at play here. If this was the witch Snape was interested in, he was treating her with apparent kid gloves. There was no question he would want no part of that cake, so why in the world was he being nice to her? Perhaps she’s too delicate for him to be himself. This thought gave Britt great comfort. If that was the case, this little bird would never meet his needs. On the other hand, if he truly didn’t mind her actions… Well then, that was something else entirely. Something Britt really hated to acknowledge, much less think about.
Snape walked back to his office feeling lighter than he had in the last few days. That little surprise visit had gone very well. He had accepted kind birthday wishes and even a cake without cursing her to Hades…and the sky had not fallen down on him because of it. He had even been nice to her in return. What is this witch doing to you? Shutting the door to his office, he walked back to his desk and sat down, purposefully ignoring the cake. He would not eat it after all. Severus Snape did not eat birthday cake. Ever.
He picked up his quill and stared at the parchment in front of him. Perhaps you should just take it to the employee lounge. Yes, that would be best. The sweet-smelling icing was very distracting. He stood up and turned towards the platter. Standing over it he contemplated, Perhaps just a taste. After all, it would be polite to comment on it when he saw her next and it would be best if he were honest. What if she asked him a specific question and he couldn’t answer? Yes, a taste, then – and after you’ll take it to the lounge.
Picking up the knife and plate she had included, he cut into the pastry. He took a deep breath as the delicious and light smell of chocolate greeted his nostrils. He sliced a small wedge and was surprised to find it had six layers; six layers of rich, moist, red cake with the fluffy cream cheese icing in-between. Placing the slice on the plate, he set the knife down. As he started to move away from the table, something reflective caught his eye. There was something in the middle of the cake, on the inside. Putting the plate down, he bent low to take a closer look. He swallowed as he tentatively pulled on the silver object.
“How was your birthday cake?” Lucius didn’t even greet his friend properly before flooing in Wednesday evening. He had arrived with just enough time to have a short conversation with Snape before meeting Hermione. Of course, he knew about the cake and the little gift. He also knew that Snape hadn’t reacted abhorrently – which was a huge first. He was dying to see the reaction from him first hand. He shook out his cloak before he hung it on the coat tree near the fireplace, carefully slinging his scarf over the top of it.
“It was delicious,” Snape’s voice was sincere, and Lucius looked up in surprise. He had even had a piece of it? Unheard of!
Lucius laughed. “She’s utterly bewitched you,” he teased. “Flowers and Italian. Walks in the park and politeness. Who are you and what have you done with Severus Snape?”
Snape couldn’t even be pressed to be grouchy with his blond friend. It was true – Hermione Granger had bewitched him. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit he welcomed the change. A memory crossed his mind, however, and he sobered.
“I should ask the same of you, Luc,” he said carefully. “What has she done to you? Drinking before noon on New Year’s? Are you having trouble again?”
Lucius’ face darkened, and Snape recognized the shield that slammed over his eyes. “Nice of her to say so,” he sneered. Snape saw the words and expression for what they were – he was using anger to deflect. The mood shifted immediately, all teasing gone.
“Hey,” the dark-haired man’s voice was firm, “don’t be like that. She cares about you and it worried her enough for it to warrant a somewhat awkward conversation with me. If you make her feel bad about telling me, I’ll be pissed.” They studied each other before he continued, “Why would you do that to yourself? Is this something I need to be worried about? You only ever drink to excess when it involves a woman, Luc. Narcissa’s death almost killed you, literally. You can’t do that again, it will kill Draco.”
Lucius’ shoulders slumped, his regal presentation faltering at the concern in his friend’s tone. “It was just the one day,” he answered. His voice was cool and controlled. “A momentary lapse in judgement. It won’t happen again.”
“What? The drinking? Or the fact that you’re falling for her just as quickly as I am?” The words came out without his permission and he buried his hands in his face with a muffled groan when Lucius spun back to the fireplace. The older man braced himself against the mantle, his knuckles whitening with his grip.
“I told you, you have nothing to worry about,” Lucius whispered. Snape just barely heard him. “I will walk away when she’s ready for you.”
Silence. Snape huffed again and wiped a hand down his face as he tried to think of the best thing to say. He was not upset with Lucius. After his date with Hermione, he knew very well that they were compatible. She wanted him – had wanted him from their first session back in November. He also knew his friend, Lucius wouldn’t hurt him like that. They were family in every sense except blood.
He was concerned for Lucius, though. Worried he was getting in too deep. Worried he was letting himself fall in love with the girl – and unsure of what he could do to make sure that didn’t happen. It would be a nightmare, a mess. Not to mention horribly confusing for Hermione.
“I’m not worried about you keeping your word, Luc,” Snape spoke softly. “I’m worried about you – as my friend. As my family. Are things becoming too complicated with her?”
Lucius couldn’t help but think that this conversation was supposed to have been light and fun. A bit of ribbing on his friend for accepting birthday wishes for the first time in possibly forever. How did it get turned about on him? Lucius wasn’t about to tell Snape he was a breath away from being completely in love with the girl. Snape, being the self-depreciating bastard that he was, would most likely feel the need to step down. To back off and stop pursuing Hermione. That would break her heart and, in turn, break Lucius’ to see her thus. Not to mention break Severus’ as well. Severus, who for the first time in miserable life found a woman who brought a real spark of life into his obsidian eyes.
“She is an exquisite submissive, Severus,” Lucius started his half lie carefully. “It’s hard not to become attached to a submissive who is as instinctive as Miss Granger. It helps that she’s very pretty,” he purposely didn’t say beautiful, “intelligent, a quick learner, and the list goes on.” He sucked in a deep breath and pushed himself away from the brazier. If he didn’t look Snape in the face, the man wouldn’t believe him. “I do care for her, but not in the way you are thinking. She has become a dear friend, and I wish to keep her in my life. But as a friend only Severus. All though, I would certainly never turn down the offer to be your third with the girl, when it’s desired.” He smirked convincingly before his face smoothed into seriousness.
“Some lines were crossed New Year’s Eve – things became a bit emotional. On both our parts, but we had a very intense session and then went to sleep in the same bed. I made that mistake, she was just along to please me. That’s something you will find she lives for – pleasing her Master.” Lucius sneered when Snape’s eyes went impossibly dark with desire.
“That line will not be crossed again, there will be no more overnights,” he promised. “She’s more special than other submissives I’ve had, most likely because of our friendship out of the bedroom. The lines must be clearer cut, not blurred like I am used to. Hermione isn’t the only one learning things in this agreement.”
Snape seemed to contemplate his words for a few moments before answering. “If you’re sure, Lucius. I know I can trust you – I know you wouldn’t do anything on purpose to shake our friendship.”
“I wouldn’t, Sev.” Lucius was glad his explanation seemed to be enough.
Hermione entered the club Friday night stressed to the nines and very prepared to give herself to her Master. She hoped Lucius had something a little more intense for tonight. She knew he had slowly been ramping things up for her through each session, but the more he gave her, the more she wanted. Tonight, she needed him to make her mind blank, she needed the pain and humiliation to feel alive, and wanted control taken away from her completely. She scanned the bar, noticing immediately Jonathan was not present. Part of her felt disappointed, she was curious as to how things were going with Clarise since she had seen him the previous Friday. He had not been behind the bar this past Wednesday, either. Perhaps she should send him an owl and ask him to join her for lunch one day this coming week.
Her eyes fell on Lucius and her whole body sagged with relief. It was astonishing to Hermione how much she had come to need these nights with him. They focused her more than anything else she had tried in her short life. Slipping through the Friday night crowd she presented herself to her Master, her eyes on the ground and body at Attention. He was speaking with two other Doms she had come to know were fairly regular patrons.
“Good evening, Doll,” Lucius silky voice greeted her off-handedly.
“Good evening, Master,” she murmured politely. He returned to his conversation, but not before guiding her to stand in front on him. One arm encircled her collarbones from behind as he pulled her into his chest. Hermione leaned into him, it was a relief to have his support.
She tuned out his conversation and only kept a fraction of her mind on the sound of his voice in case he was to ask her a question or require something of her. She focused on the feel of his heavy arm across her chest, the solid wall of his body at her back, and the rumble of his voice as she settled her head into the hallow of his shoulder that seemed to fit her perfectly.
She wasn’t sure how long it was that they stood there thus, only that his nose was nuzzling the side of her neck. She took a quick breath when his voice startled her. “You are tired tonight, pet. Do you need to be disciplined for your abysmal sleep schedule this week?” He was teasing her, she had warned him with her Monday night journal entry that this week would be horrible for sleep because she had been out of the office for two weeks. Being a business man himself, he had understood and had asked her to do her best to get at least five hours a night. She had succeeded, but just barely.
“I just need you, Master,” she murmured in answer. “I need you to just take over so I don’t have to think for a while.” She had yet to open her eyes, still cradled against his body.
Suddenly, there was a small commotion that had them both standing straight and seeking out the noise. “I think he’s choking!” they heard a voice come. Lucius quickly moved through the crowd with Hermione on his heels. They got to the outskirts of a small circle of people in less than three seconds. Numerous patrons were staring horrified at a man who was obviously choking. “I’ve done the charm twice! It’s not working!” a young witch exclaimed as the man’s face went from a deep pink to red.
Lucius took a step forward, commanding the crowd as he pointed his wand at the wizard. Hermione recognized him as one of the men Lucius had just been talking to. “Detrudo!” he said firmly. Nothing happened, and the man was clearly becoming quite panicked. Had thirty seconds even passed yet? Another person shouted the charm, pointing their wand. Again, nothing happened. The man’s face was the color of red bricks. Hermione wondered if the obstruction was too low for the charm to work…she knew the Heimlich maneuver. Even though the situation was not remotely funny, a smirk rose to her features as she quickly moved to stand beside Lucius.
“Permission to speak, Master,” she said smugly.
“Not now, Doll!” Lucius was completely dismissive which made her bristle. The man’s eyes were starting to bulge, and his face was now turning purple.
“Permission to touch your friend, Master!” Hermione exclaimed loudly as she started to feel a lot less smug and a lot more worried herself. The entire room became silent with her forceful question and it seemed everyone was looking at her.
Lucius was momentarily stunned before he answered, “Yes, of course!” She saw the flash of regret in his eyes.
Hermione was already rounding the wizard when Lucius gave permission. She wrapped her arms around the man and used her finger tips to find his navel. She closed her eyes and formed her fists just above the landmark before she jerked her arms back hard and fast. Nothing. She did it again, more forcefully, and was disheartened when it still didn’t work. The din that had risen again after her request was hazy in her ears and she had to force herself to focus. He was a big man, and she was a tiny woman. Using every ounce of determination and strength she possessed, she pulled her arms back around the man forcefully, caving in his gut. She would have lost her balance and wound up with the two-hundred-pound man on top of her on the floor if it hadn’t been for steadying hands on her shoulders. There was a grunt and a cough and then the man bent over and retched on the floor, gasping for breath with tears spilling down his face.
“Thank you, thank you!!” The woman who had been so upset threw herself into Hermione arms, sobbing. Hermione hugged her back, realizing she was shaking with adrenaline. Part of her mind couldn’t help but think that she had better not get a fucking punishment spanking because this woman had launched herself into her personal space. Other people were talking loudly, some were clapping. Hermione was very, very thankful for the mask that concealed her identity. This whole situation would have been five times worse if they knew war heroine Hermione Granger had saved the day.
The witch let her go and moved back to the man who was being helped by a few people to sit on a stool. Hermione noticed Snape enter the room, moving quickly towards the commotion with concern etched into his features.
“What happened?” Snape’s voice rose above the noise and he caught her eye, but she demurely looked away. She was not allowed eye contact without permission and she needed to go back to playing her part as a submissive now that the danger was over.
“Lucius?” Snape’s voice could be heard again.
“I’ll be right back, Severus,” Lucius replied. “I’m just going to make sure Doll is okay. She just saved that man’s life.” Lucius wrapped his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and led her quickly out of the main room, pulling her into his and Snape’s managerial office.
“You are not submitting right now,” he said as he guided her to one of the oversized office chairs. He could feel her body trembling. “Sit,” he directed before kneeling in front of her. “Are you okay, Hermione?”
“I am, I’m a bit shocked,” she answered. Her voice cracked twice, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “When it didn’t work the first couple times, I thought we would watch him die. I just…I’m a little shaken.”
“That’s understandable,” he soothed quietly as he took one of her hands between both of his and chaffed it, trying to bring warmth back into her fingers. They sat there in silence as she calmed. When her shuddering stopped, he summoned a bottle of water from the side board and twisted the cap off.
“Here, love,” he murmured, indicating she drink. She did, deeply. More than half the bottle was gone before she stopped to take a breath. “Are you sure you’re okay? Should we call it a night?” he questioned.
Slowly, her unfocused eyes met his. “Oh, please no,” she whispered. “I really need you tonight, Lucius. Especially after that. I’ve been looking forward to tonight all day – hell, all week!”
Lucius was taken aback by her candid proclamation, and more than a little turned on by her words. Not “I need you, Master,” but “I need you, Lucius.” Pull it together, Luc. He wasn’t ever going to be able to distance himself enough from her. He might as well resign himself to the pain the end of their contract was going to cause him and enjoy her while he could. Merlin.
“Mm,” he hummed. “I will oblige. That is request one, pet. I wish you go to playroom thirteen and ready yourself for me. I will be there after I take care of a few things.”
“Yes, Master,” she answered immediately, her heart rate spiking. This would be the first time he had directed her to go ahead without him, she was surprised with how nervous it made her.
“A kiss first, I think,” Lucius murmured. He stood and pulled her with him before he leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a busy week, Doll. Let’s see if we can relieve some stress tonight. Off you go.” He spun her without waiting for a reply and gave her a light smack on her back side. Hermione let out a surprised grunt at the contact and felt her cheeks flame to life, but obediently made her way out of the office. She cut around the opposite way they had come in, so she could skirt through the bar area unnoticed.
Thirty minutes later, she was back to feeling very sleepy, along with her ankles and feet. Goodness, she hadn’t expected him to be quite so long. Holding some of these positions were exhausting. No matter how you sliced it, sitting in a kneeling position for longer than ten minutes was uncomfortable. She would need to build her stamina if waiting like this was going to be a regular occurrence. She closed her eyes and let her chin fall forward to her chest, focusing on her breath and meditation techniques to alleviate her discomfort. She would not fail this evening before he had even begun their session.
She jumped, quite startled when the door slammed open a few minutes later. Heart rate skyrocketing, it took effort to keep her eyes on the floor.
“Up, on your feet! Wall position.” Lucius didn’t greet her, and her stomach twisted. The Wall position was what he used when he paddled her last week. Not wanting to make any punishment she might have coming worse, and remembering he said they would always talk about a severe punishment before it happened, she scrambled to her feet. She wasn’t able to help the slight limp due to her sleeping lower limbs as she made her way across the room to the wall. She crossed her arms and splayed her hands flat as she stuck out her bum and spread her feet slightly more than hip width a part.
“Good girl.” His voice was still crisp, but pleased. “We’ll start with the flogger.”
Hermione grinned at the wall. Fuck, she loved his flogger. Instantly she was aroused, immediately she was alert. The first gentle stroke – he always started gently – caused her to groan as the tension she hadn’t even realized she had been holding seeped out of her body. Her head fell forward, drowning her in her own hair. The flogging continued for many minutes.
Swap. Swap. Swap. Swap.
A bit harder.
Swap. Swap. Swap. Swap.
She wished he’d talk to her, her brain was still much too active.
Harder.
Swap. Swap. Swap. Swap.
When the intensity had crept up enough that each blow stung just a bit, a deeper moan left her. She was more than turned on at this point and growled in protest when he stopped. “Join me at the couch, Miss Granger,” he directed, and she heard him set the flogger down as she straightened. Hermione watched him settle onto the couch before flicking his wand. Her eyes widened when something she had not seen before soared across the room into his hand in a blur of metal and leather.
“Kneel between my legs, facing me.” She complied, eyes down.
“This is called a spider gag, Miss Granger.” He held out the implement. “Are you familiar?”
“No, Master,” she answered.
“Look at it.” Her eyes lifted, and she took in the large, hollow circle of metal with four crooked “legs” forking off each side. “Any objections?” His silver eyes were dark with lust; flogging aroused him as much as it did her. She could see the bulge in his trousers.
“No, Master.”
“Open your mouth – wide.”
She obeyed. The cold metal was tucked behind her upper and lower incisors, the legs pointing out like a square around her permanently opened mouth. He gently tapped it with his wand and the ring grew until it was slightly uncomfortable. “Oh, Doll, you have no idea.” Lucius’ voice was gruff as he tenderly stroked her face with the pads of his fingers.

“I want you on the flat bench, on your back. Knees bent, feet flat, arms spread.” Her already pounding heart accelerated, the muscle trying to escape her ribcage. She quickly moved to standing and crossed to position herself as commanded on the wooden table. The moment she was laying down, he was over her. Helping her adjust, so her head hung upside-down off the edge of the table and her arms and legs were just right. The moment he was satisfied he waved his wand which caused metal cuffs to sprout out of the wooden top to shackle her in place. Hermione knew her eyes had grown three times their normal size and felt a flush rise to her cheeks when he laughed at her. He still didn’t talk – she wondered if that was part of it. He was moving through his steps much more quickly tonight then they’d ever had before.
“You’re familiar with these, pet?” Lucius asked when he came back into her line of sight. She tried to right her head enough to see what he had in his hands. She wanted to swallow, but it came out as a choked tongue click as she moved the saliva in her mouth to the back of her throat. Suddenly, a flogger she hadn’t even seen cracked down over her torso, she gasped and yipped. “Answer me, Doll.” His voice was hard.
Answer him? How? She worked her throat. “Yes, Master!” It sounded more like “heth ather”, but he seemed to understand.
“Do you know what these are?”
“Heth, ather!”
“Good.” In the same breath he reached out to pluck her right nipple, pebbling it instantly before he pulled it up and away, stretching her breast like a taffy pull. There was no other warning than that before he fastened a nipple vice over it. Her body arched with the pain even as he started to torture the other. After they were in place, he pointed his wand at her face. “Obscuro.” Instantly she was blind, and her senses skyrocketed. She was already breathing heavy when he started to rain heavy blows from a one-inch suede flogger across her abdomen, making the clamps bounce. She couldn’t help the small shrieks and instantly she decided she was not super fond of nipple clamps. Even though they weren’t weighted and dangling from her body like the time with Snape, they still hurt!
When the flogger flopped over a breast she squealed loudly, causing saliva to spill out of her permanently O-shaped mouth. Lucius’ rumbled laugh sent a deluge to her knickers. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She let out another shriek as he focused the weight of the implement over her breasts, causing her to arch and wiggle as she tried to get away from the shock of the pain even as it caused tremendous amounts of pleasure.
The flogger stopped, and suddenly he was running his fingers over the scrap of silk that covered her sex. Not being able to see him, what he was doing, or how he looked, was making her mental. Not being able to anticipate his movements caused desire and anxiety to war in her mind. “These are positively drenched, love.” Good god, his voice was deeper than usual and caused chills to cascade down her spine as her clit spasmed at his touch. Without warning, he grasped her knickers in his fist and pulled hard, causing another tight scream to leave her lips as the straps dug hotly into her hips before they broke and gave way. “I told you I liked to shred through my submissive’s knickers, pet,” he teased. “I’m surprised it took me this long to demonstrate, you prove to be a delicious … distraction.”
“Uhhh,” was her only reply. Fleetingly, she thought of the drawer she’d had to clean out when a package of hundreds of knickers had arrived at her flat. It was stuffed with underwear that boasted French tags – silks, lace, satin; boy shorts, thongs, bikini briefs – all in a varying array of prints and colors and patterns. As quickly as the thought came, it disappeared. Hermione was lost – he’d completely sucked her into his command, his desire, his world. She was his – she didn’t care what he did to her, what he would do to her. The intensity he was presenting tonight was exactly what she had wanted, what she had needed.
His fingers were back at her slit, sliding through the moisture and causing her to whimper and roll her hips. “Hmm, that needs to stop.” There was a breath of silence and then her hips could no longer move. Sticking charm, the thought came from somewhere…or nowhere. Who cares?!
“Uhhhnnn,” she moaned again when he slipped two fingers up her quim.

“Has anyone ever made you squirt before, pet?” He sounded very curious.
“Oh, ather,” she responded to the best of her ability.
“No?” He curled his fingers against her g-spot and started a sweeping motion with a frim, almost painful pressure. She grunted loudly. “Should we try?”
“Heth, atheeeer!” The answer ended on a visceral snarl. She wanted to raise her hips but couldn’t.
“Accio g-spot wand.” Grr! I want to see! If possible, her breathing accelerated even more. Her tongue was drying out even as her saliva collected on the roof of her mouth. She gasped when she felt cold, cold metal touch her lower lips.
Lucius lazily coated the larger bulbed end of the metal g-spot wand in her excitement before slowly slipping into her cunt, causing her head to frantically shake back and forth as snarls of pleasure broke from her chest. Her breasts, nipples delightfully dark with the lack of blood the clamps were keeping at bay, bounced as her breaths came in rapid, ragged gasps. He angled the wand and started an intense rhythm.
“’uck!” she shouted, and he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. His cock was going to have the imprint of his placket on it by the time he set it free. He devoured her with his eyes, she looked so fucking sexy. He shook the wand side-to-side causing more snarls.
“Come, Doll,” he demanded. When she’d had her pleasure, he was going to take his – forcefully. He continued his assault on her pussy, really wondering if she would squirt. Some witches just couldn’t, and some could soak a bed and leave a puddle on the floor. Angling the wand so it pressed more deeply into the anterior wall of her vagina, he dropped his other hand to start fondling her clit.
“Uhh,” she groaned. “Uh, uh!” Her upper body was almost frantic within its limited movement. She tilted her head up, almost as if she wished to watch what he was doing. The scarf around her eyes prevented her from seeing a thing.
“Come!” he commanded, watching the hallow of her throat convex and concave rapidly with her breathing.

Her entire body froze before she threw her head back. “Oh, gaaa!” Her body convulsed.
“Yes!” he hissed, watching appreciatively as she shattered. He continued to stimulate her g-spot through her orgasm and was quite suddenly rewarded with a gush of fluid. “Oh, Miss Granger!” Lucius came as close to crowing with excitement as one as dignified as he could. “What a treat for me!” he teased as the puddle beneath her continue to grow. She was most likely not even remotely coherent, her body continued to shudder with her release as she made visceral noises in her throat that made her sound like a wanton, Knockturn Alley whore. Well…close as they come these days, we are in Knockturn Alley. He snorted silently at his own crude joke. Carefully he slipped the metal instrument out of her before banishing it back to its shelf to be magically cleaned.
Lucius rounded to the head of the table and flicked his wand to raise it, so her mouth would be the perfect height to take his cock. He had every intention on getting off twice tonight, once in her mouth and once in her hot little pussy. Carefully he leaned over her to undo the nipple clamps. A low rumble of pain and heavy panting left her when he released first the left, then the right. She squirmed madly, her hands curling into fists as they jerked against the metal cuffs of her restraints.
He grabbed a handful of her hair tightly in a fist and dragged her head up, pulling her blindfold off. Hermione’s dark eyes whirled, searching him out. When their gazes locked, he leered at her. “You’ve made an absolute mess of my table, Miss Granger,” his voice was full of mock-disapproval, “I might need you to lap that up later as punishment,” he cocked an eyebrow when she whimpered. “I’m going to take my pleasure, now.” He told her, and she nodded frantically.
“Heth, ather!” She was enthusiastic, and he grinned at her.
“Good girl,” he crooned, smoothing some spittle from around her mouth. “You will not be able to make any noise soon, pet. So, you’ll use this scarf like you did the night in my ballroom.” He ripped a chunk off the scarf and tucked it into one hand, her fingers gripped around it. “Demonstrate,” he demanded. She let the scarf drop. He immediately tucked it back in. “Perfect. Now, prepare yourself.”
Lucius released his trouser placket, pulling his length from his pants while letting her head drop back over the edge of the table. He started slowly, slipping his cock inside the center of the spider gag, groaning when she automatically started running her tongue over the sensitive skin. He nudged in a bit further until he met the resistance of her throat muscles. “Relax your throat, Doll,” he told her thickly. He felt her obey before slipping in a bit further. Hermione gave a slight gag, but he did not pull back. “You will take my cock down your throat tonight, pet, relax!” he growled, his eyes sliding shut with pleasure as he pushed through the ring of muscle, effectively blocking her air. “Yes, baby girl, like that.”
Hermione went absolutely still when Lucius pushed his prick fully down her throat and her breath was cut off. She couldn’t deny that this was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced in her life as his bullocks pressed into her nose. She gave a slight jerk when she needed a breath and panicked just a smidge when he didn’t immediately pull back. Calm down, he will not suffocate you with his cock. All though – what a way to go! The next moment he slid back, a long string of saliva pulled with him. It dangled for a moment before snapping and falling across her face, making her flinch slightly as she sucked in a deep breath.
Lucius pushed forward again, this time only using one smooth stroke to push back through her neck muscles and into her throat. She groaned, and the vibrations made him clench his jaw. “Good girl,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over one tender breast, teasing its sensitive peak. She bowed into his hand. He pulled out again to let her breathe. “I will not keep up this slow pace, Doll. I will fuck this pretty little mouth until I come down your throat,” he warned. He could feel the vibrations in her chest as she moaned again, obviously very turned on by his words.
One more time he slowly, but firmly pushed his way into her throat. This time he stayed bullocks deep, moving his hand to her throat. “Oh, Miss Granger,” he sang smugly. “I’m so deep in your throat, I can see the outline of my cock here on the outside.” He used his thumb and forefinger to stimulate himself through her skin and felt the vibrations of yet another primitive snarl on his prick. Merlin and Morgana, this is intoxicating, he mused. He stayed put another few seconds. She jerked once, twice, her body searching for air. The third time he pulled back and she gasped desperately as her tongue clicked in her mouth, trying to swallow.
Lucius let her breathe for a solid ten seconds before he started his full assault on her mouth. Sliding in more quickly, he bottomed out and then jerked his hips three times before pulling back to let her breathe, then repeated the motions. He kept a slow but steady pace for four rounds, letting her catch the pattern, before he upped the pace. Then another six rounds before he upped the pace to the tempo he wanted. Frequently she made gagging sounds and her breaths were raspy and desperate sounding. He kept one eye on the scarf in her hand, which was clenched into a fist so tight her knuckles were bloodless.
He added the next stage of his plan and slapped his hand down firmly on one bouncing tit. She jerked and then moaned around him. He smacked the other, all the while pounding in and out of her throat.
The sounds started to flow out of her endlessly, only heightening the sensation around his cock. He let himself go, firm in his conviction that she wouldn’t drop that scarf even if her life depended on it. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Crack! Breathe. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Crack! Breathe.
After mere minutes, and in a very tight voice he told her, “Swallow it all, my pretty little slut.” He let her take a deep breath before slamming into her throat and jerking his hips. His seed spurted down her throat and he felt her muscles work over his length, taking it all down. He stayed there, letting his orgasm subside. Her throat worked over him while he implemented his next game. Hermione had given breath play a four on her list, despite never having done it before.
Keeping his eye on her scarf, he watched as she jerked once before going quite still. Ten seconds later she gave another jerk, a bit more urgently. He still didn’t move as he counted silently. The skin on her neck and chest was starting to turn red as she jerked a third time. At thirty solid seconds with no air, Hermione still hadn’t dropped the scarf. Her throat was working faster, and he stifled his groan when she jerked a fourth time.
Lucius was humbled by her trust in him when he had counted thirty-five seconds. He stayed still and silent as she jerked a fourth time. Five…four…three…two…one. He pulled back and she sputtered and coughed and drew in frantic breaths. He summoned a handkerchief and knelt before her. Hermione’s eyes were closed as she heaved in air. Her eyelashes were wet with tears and spittle surrounded her mouth and nose. “Such a good girl, Doll. So good, my dear. Utter perfection,” he praised sincerely as he tenderly removed the fluids from her face. “You certainly know how to make your Master feel amazing, pet.”
Hermione was concentrating so fiercely on her breathing that she barely took in his praise. Half her mind was focused on her desperate ache to come again as his pleasure had only heightened her need. She pressed her face into his touch and absentmindedly wondered if he’d remove the gag now, her jaw was starting to ache.
No sooner had she thought it when the strap around her head loosened. “Careful, love, we don’t want to chip those pearly whites,” he mused softly. Cautiously, he helped her slip the metal ring from behind her teeth, groaning with her as he gently massaged her jaw while she slowly closed her mouth.
Hermione’s bonds were released next as Lucius told her, “You have five minutes to rest, I’ll get you some water.” Rest? We’re not done? While she really did want to come again, part of her was so knackered, she would have been okay to be done.
Knowing better, she answered, “Yes, Master,” and rolled into a sitting position, drawing her legs to the side so she was sitting on her hip. “Thank you, Master,” she told him when a bottle of water was placed in front of her face.
Hermione’s five-minute break was spent in silence, only punctuated with the sounds of him preparing their next scene. She kept her eyes down (Lucius had directed her in their Wednesday session that she was to not look at him or what he was doing unless directed to do so) while she waited for instructions.
“Come,” he commanded just as her reprieve was up. She pushed herself up onto shaky legs and moved to him, her eyes on his bare feet. “Up,” he directed. “You may look, so you don’t hurt yourself.”
Hermione raised her eyes and her heart just about stopped. In front of her was the same wooden stockade Severus had used on her before. Where the hell did that come from?! It was not in here earlier! The only change was that she would have to climb to put her hands and head through. It was open, prepared for her, and there was a cushioned bench for her knees. It would put her directly at his hip height. She forced herself not to glance at him in surprise as she obediently climbed up, settling her knees before laying her wrists and neck into their respective slots. Lucius closed the hinge and clasped a metal buckle to keep it in place, effectively trapping her.
He moved around the contraption to stand in front of her. His trousers were refastened, but he was shirtless and barefoot. Unable to help herself, she raised her eyes over the sinewy planes of his abdomen to his lightly defined chest before stopping at his nipple line when she noticed the tips of his white-blond tresses caressing his skin. She shivered in anticipation.
Gently, Lucius sunk his fingers into her own unruly locks and gathered them into a pony tail at the top of her head. He twisted an elastic into it to tie it securely. Hermione found herself a bit confused but kept her eyes straight forward while he continued working. Abruptly, her head was jerked up forcefully by her hair, making her roots yelp in protest as she squeaked. A rope was dangling above her head which he quickly knotted into her hair. It did not hurt, unless she tried to drop her head down to her chest. Arousal swept hard and fast through her body, pooling in her loins. Oh, gods, she whimpered internally.
“Mm, lovely,” he murmured before a moderate slap landed on her cheek. She flinched, her eyes blinking rapidly as her lips parted on a startled gasp. Another slap landed on the other cheek and the heat of a blush crept up her neck, staining her face hot pink. “Tell me you like having your hair pulled and your face slapped, my sweet little whore,” he murmured, placing his nose almost directly on hers. Lucius silver eyes bore hotly into her golden-brown orbs. She read his desire, his Domination. More heat flooded her core.
“I like having my hair pulled and my face slapped, Master,” she repeated, her voice trembling.
“You just like it, Miss Granger?” Another blow struck her face and she grunted.
“I love it, Master!” Her voice was more confident this time. Her neck was becoming fatigued from holding her head up at such an odd angle, she dropped it a bit only to let out a squeak of pain when the movement ripped at her skull.
“Why do you love it, pet?” he prodded. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what he wanted from her.
“I love the way you hurt me!” she yipped when her too slow answer earned her another moderate slap on the face. There was a heavy silence and then Lucius’ hand was in her hair again to jerk her head up as his lips crashed down over hers. She growled into the kiss, unleashing her tongue to meet his stroke for stroke. His fingers twisted, pulling a gasp from her lungs.
“Why do you love the way I hurt you, Doll?” His lips caressed hers with the words, belying the roughness of his hand with the gentleness of his mouth.
“Because I’m your little whore,” she answered firmly and was rewarded with his tongue invading her mouth again.
Lucius was enjoying their session immensely. This was the first scene he’d had with her where he hadn’t felt the need to explain every little step as they went through them. Her immediate acquiescence and acceptance of what he was doing to her was making his Dominant side glow with pride and ecstasy. His needs were being deeply met for the first time in months – since his last contracted submissive almost a year ago. As her desperation for him increased, he felt safe in letting himself go just a bit more, turning up the intensity as she had requested.
“Yes, you are my little whore,” he cooed, ending their kiss and letting her hair go. Slapping her face one last time, he told her, “I have a present for you my dear, would you like me to show you?”
“Yes, Master,” she murmured, eyes back on the floor. Her hair was pulled tightly back by the rope as she let her neck rest.
Hermione listened to him walking away from her and felt a slight anxiety creep up her spine. She always felt this way when he left her alone, like he was displeased with her. It’s probably you thinking he’s upset with you that causes the anxiety, Hermione, she chided herself. He’s not mad at you, he’s got a present for you! That last thought caused a shiver. Presents could go either way in this world. She snorted mentally.
“Look at me,” he said softly when he reappeared in front of her. “My naughty little witch told me she wants her bum filled, so I’m obliging.” He held out his hand, in it was a small glass anal plug.
“It’s pretty!” she said, her voice squeaking a bit with her surprise. Lucius laughed. It is pretty! she thought, her cheeks flooding with heat at his mirth. It was made out of opaque black and Slytherin green glass that swirled around each other, he tipped it to show her the end and she stifled a chuckle. Imbedded into the flat end of the plug was a silver plate engraved with the Malfoy crest. Conceited son of a bitch, isn’t he? she mused. Any chance to mark his territory – typical male.
“I’m glad you think so,” he teased. “Open.”
Hermione dropped her sore jaw and he placed the egg shaped, bulbus end into her mouth like a perverted pacifier. This caused another giggle to escape her even as her blush darkened.
“Giggle all you want, Miss Granger, I’m going to slip that plug up your tight little arsehole and then spank you until you’re dripping with want,” he explained calmly. Those words caused a low rumble of need in her chest and her head fell forward again, her hair pulling on its restraints. She whimpered with the pain.
Lucius fingers lightly took the end of the plug again as he indicated for her to let it go. Hermione started panting lightly the moment he moved out of sight, anticipation flooding her belly with butterflies.
When Lucius rounded the stockade to find her bum dancing expectantly, he had to stop and cover his mouth to prevent himself from laughing aloud. Apparently, the little minx hadn’t been kidding when she told him how eager she was to move forward with anal play. He closed his fist around the plug and lightly swatted her butt cheek with the other hand, she made an enthusiastic sound and arched her back. “Please, Master,” she exclaimed.
“Please, what, Miss Granger?” he asked, dropping another slap to her other butt cheek.
“Will you spank me the way you did on Boxing Day?” She was panting heavily, and Lucius felt his cock slowly come back to life.
“Mm, request number two, pet.” He landed another crack on her upturned bum.
“Mmm! Please, Master, it made me so wet,” she groaned. “I was miserable for days after that spanking.” Lucius’ cock swelled further at her begging.
“Beg,” he told her, cracking her bum hard right where the globe met the juncture of her thighs.
“Please, please, please, Master,” she whimpered, her voice thick. “Please spank me, Master. I need it – I want it. Please?!” She cried out softly when another hard crack landed.
“After I put your plug in, pet,” he told her. “I’ll spank you like I did on Boxing Day and then I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for the next day, how does that sound?” Another hard slap.
“Yes! Oh gods, yes Master! Please, please, please,” her bum was wiggling frantically again, and Lucius let out another low chuckle. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he pointed it at her little hole and muttered a colon cleansing charm, smirking when she squealed. Then he silently summoned a tub of lubricant and dropped a dollop over her bum cheeks. She let out a surprised gasp at the cold and stilled when a finger followed the liquid down her crack to moisten the rosebud between her cheeks. Hermione moaned low, the sound maddening, and arched her back again.
Lucius could still hear her soft, frantic “pleases” as he pushed his pointer finger through the ring of muscles twisting and curling, making her cry out in an unsteady voice, “Yes, please!” Her pussy was glistening with her juices in the low light, and he pocketed the plug, so he could use his other hand to lightly slap her cunt. She jerked and groaned at the sensation then pushed back, seeking for more. More what? More pussy slaps? More fingers in her arse? He’d give her both.
Curling his pointer finger back, he added his middle finger and stretched the swirl of flesh further, causing her to snarl and shout nonsensically. Lucius dropped more light smacks on her dripping sex, focusing on the swollen nub of her clit. “Nnnnn!” Fuck, her noises were going to make him come!
“Such a dirty girl.” He spoke loudly, making sure she could hear him as he shook his fingers in her arse from side-to-side while simultaneously patting her pussy.
“Fuck!” Hermione shouted. “Oh, gods!” He paused in his ministrations before slowly pulling his fingers out. He moved to slide the plug in, pausing momentarily to let her feel the cool glass against her back entrance.
“Ready?”
“Yes, Master!” He almost laughed again at her enthusiasm. Slowly, he pushed the plug in past the tight ring of her arsehole. Being small the transition was fairly smooth.
Hermione panted through the sensation, wriggling again now that the plug was in place. “Fifty swats, love. Count.”
The first strike landed. “One!” Lucius started gently, building the intensity slowly. “Two!” He wouldn’t strike her harder than a five – maybe a six – this entire session was meant to work her into a fuzzy frenzy of frantic, furious need.
“Five!”
“Six!”
…
“Twenty-seven!...Twenty-eight!...Twenty-nine!” Lucius cock was marble cauldron hard at this point, and he was aching to sink himself into her velvety, wet heat. “Thirty-two!...Thirty-three!” He increased to a four for the next seven hits.
“Oh, fuck, Master! Forty-five!” Hermione panted with each hit, her mouth was bone dry and her bum was writhing and sore. If she could just get some friction on her mound, she knew she could stop dancing. Three more, Hermione, then he’ll fuck you and let you come –at least I hope he’ll let me come!
“Forty-eight!”
A six for strength.
“Forty-nine!...Fifty! Thank you, Master. Please fuck me now, Master!” The words exploded from her the moment her sentence (no matter how badly she had wanted that spanking, by the end of it – it had felt like a sentence) was over. She needed him in her – now. No, he wasn’t allowed to pause! She heard a zipper and a susurration of fabric and then he was slamming into her.
“Ah! Yes, oh! Thank you, Master!” The added weight and penetration of the plug only increased her pleasure. Lucius’ hands were bruising her hips with his grip and each slap of his pelvis against her on-fire-bum jolted the plug while his bullocks slapped her clit. “I’m going to come!”
“Not yet!” he told her. “Wait for me!”

It was a growled demand and she moaned in protest before shouting, “Yes, Master!” Her fists clenched, and her brow furrowed as she concentrated on not coming. Her shoulders slammed against the stockade with each jarring thrust. When she clenched her pelvic floor muscles, it caused a guttural snarl to be ripped from his chest and he upped his pace violently. She shouted nonsensically, pretty sure she was begging him to let her come, it was taking all the effort she had not to explode around his cock and the plug.
“Come!” he finally snarled and white lights exploded in front of her eyes as her body detonated.
“Uhhhnnnghhh!!!”
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” he roared, continuing to pound through their combined orgasm.
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Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission