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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
- 27
- 28
- 29
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.

A/N: Reviews’ answers on http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/43048-plenitude hermionelvoldemort/

Please Read Review and Rate? Enjoy :]

HM

PS. Thank you hubby of mine for proofreading, beta’ing , all errors are mine, obviously;]

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

‘Flashback’

Chapter 28 : The Dominant Creed

Hermione’s closed eyelids were fighting to open; the light of day, she supposed, chasing off the last remnants of melatonin in her brain and blood. Her buttocks’ skin tingled, the soft fresh sheets caressing her epidermis, the scent of lavender, sandalwood and citrus awakening the olfactive function of her brain. She never slept this deeply in her life. A recuperative profound sleep, where every cell in her body had been regenerated, strengthened, and revitalized. A smile expanded her still swollen lips; eyelids still closed, she tried to stretch, but a heavy weight on her waist and abdomen stopped her from turning on her back.

She was lying on her right side, when she woke up, and now she took notice of the sounds around her, silence interrupted by her breathing and another person’s respiration! Then the heat emanating from the body spooned to hers propelled her eyes open.

Her heart thrummed its way up to her throat, breathing became an issue especially when the latest of her yesterday’s memories crashed upon her mind’s retina like a tidal wave.

Merlin’s Balls! It was true, it did occur, it was not a dream, as wet as they come, she was wet, and hot, and burning and …Fucked! Holy Mother of all deities!! A searing heat spread with the blood surging in her veins. Her buttocks were still sore, yet the heat coming from a certain hard part of the Dark Lord’s body, who, she knew was behind her sound asleep, left hand wrapped around her waist, was searing her flesh, and stirring not only recollections but sensations, and reactions.

She slept in his bed yesterday, though honestly she did not remember how she got there. Another smile crept delicately to her lips, as if her facial muscles did want to alert her to her own reaction. Isis flat tits! Oh MY! OH MY! She did have anal sex with him!! A moan almost fled her lips, but she swallowed it in extremis, inhaling deeply. She needed to think, and did not want to wake him up, not yet. She basked in the sensorial signals her invigorated body and mind were affording her.

She wanted to relive and relish every moment of this softer, kinder and gentler side of the Dark wizard behind her. The thoughtful male hidden behind his inflexible, dominating façade, who took care of her needs, while she surrendered to his ministrations.

He demonstrated and proved yesterday that he could be considerate. She was still tied to the bench, and he never let go, he was wrapped around her like a second layer of skin, a cloak of heat and pleasure. His hands were everywhere on her hypersensitive flesh.

He did not withdraw from her sore yet stimulated bottom, never going flaccid, or limp after climax! His stiff penis was lodged so deep in her rear, she felt full, and weirdest of all, satiated, she did not want him to vacate her, she wanted this satiated sensation to endure, to continue, to last.

Rocking his hips slowly, leisurely, a maddening undulation of lustful rhythm, never leaving her rectal entrance, he used his own already splashed sperm in her insides to lubricate her, time and again. His long tapered nimble fingers unlocked her body’s untouched imprisoned darker corners, where perverted needs, and distorted wants lay dormant, until their rescuer arrived, freeing her whole when he shackled and tethered her.

He made her soar high when he engulfed her with his body, his requests. He unleashed her carnal rapture when he demanded total control over her.

He crooned in her ruptured mind through her acoustic mayhem, a song scripted with his immoral lyrics, letters of unbridled passion, wickedly weaved by a silkier than silk whispering tone. She blushed and flushed hearing him describe his ‘hunger for her, his little witch’, his murmurs stroking with the tempo of his thrusts. She could recite his grumbled husky whispers by heart, even now, it makes her feel wanted, no, needed, desired, adored and worshiped.

‘Precious witch… feel me…feel how hard I am for you? …You drive Master crazy precious one….   you feel divine around my dick…burning hot … squeezing me tight…. I want to fill you with my cock and cum time and again…I have waited two long years…to claim you. …fuckkk….yesss pet… move with me…suck me into you…fuck me …going to Brand you …until everyone knows you.are.mine … beg me to let you cum…yesss my pretty witch …grasp my prick in your… tiggght ass…beautiful …gorgeous slave … pretty pet…I am going to cum… milk me….sweet one….cum for Master ….fuckkk….’

Oh those words, the rocking of his hips, his slow deep long plunges, like he wanted her to feel every inch of him, then changing his cadence again, to frenzied voracious desire beating, pounding, hammering his needs inside her body! He was slamming, into her, like an engine piston, at full throttle, and his ‘you are mine’ cluster was punctuated with deep and hard plunges into her rear that knocked the breath out of her, and knocked her out of her mind. She peaked, three? four times? She lost count, it felt like she was on a crest and never landed down into a post-coital haze, after her first climax. He kept her there, up on a summit of inconceivable bliss.

Again and again like a decadent litany of luring sin, a repetitive, incantatory recital of auditory rapture, voiced strokes of enthralling temptations, and conquering, shoves, pushes, and stabs to celebrate the carnal triumph. He sparked conflagrations in her body, every inch of her blazing being, from the surface of her melting sweaty skin, to the deepest foundation of her virgin vaginal sheath and her extremely thoroughly devirginated anus.

Her clitoris under his tormenting digits, was sending every single one of the extreme throbbing yet frenziedly ecstatical signals, via her wired nerves, meeting with those of her thoroughly pinched, twisted, over sensitized and turgid, nipples, before hurtling into her neurons, assailing her synapses into total surrender to the highs of the self-secreted natural drugs, her brain and blood was saturated with testosterone, dopamine, oxytocin and vasopressin.

Her carnal poisoning was deliciously spurred by vocal, oral injections, his mouth and lips, tongue, and teeth, nibbling, sucking, biting, and gnawing on the edge of painful, intolerable, and addictive. Self-combustion has never been so close, so wanted, yet his caressing, fondling, squeezing, stroking, fanned her inferno, into cerebral and corporeal ‘Big Bangs’. His big bangs, made self-combustion, in comparison, futilely obsolete.

Her capitulation was his claim, her submission was his aim, and thus she moaned, whimpered his claim and proved his aim. His Mastery of her, she screamed, repeatedly, ‘Master’! Not “My Lord”, or “Lord Voldemort”, or “Dark Lord”, no. Nothing could have compared to this unique word Master, at that moment of suspension between enjoyable pains and excruciating ecstasies, which he alone could give.

She proclaimed her acceptance, her obedience, her acknowledgement, and her submission to Master, to Him, and when she did, willingly, she finally felt free, liberated; by calling to him, for him, all of her internal tethers, chains, knots were instantly unbound. The prison cells that clogged her mind, inhibiting her body, restraining her needs, suffocating her desires were blown to dust, there was sunlight coming in, and she wanted to soak in it, he was sunlight, she bloomed in his warmth.

She woke up from her post-coital haze while he untied her. Soaked with her in a warm bath, washed her, then he bridal style, lifted her up, took her to his bed, and massaged every inch of her languid satiated and if it was at all possible, almost purring body. His agile fingers trailed over and traipsed around, pampered and fondled from her neck to her toes. They rubbed, kneaded, coddle and cajoled every knotted muscle, burning flesh, wired tendon, bringing comfort, and relief, his lips followed loving and soothing.

He spread an Aloe Vera and Arnica concoction, to ease the soreness, as per his whispered explanations, on her still blazing bottom, which in turn added to her lingering spasmodic twinges of delight! Every touch of his fingers, rubbing the salve in, felt like rasping her flesh anew, and escalating the sporadic quivers of enjoyment, the remnant aftershocks of her body-shattering peak(s)? She couldn’t be certain if it was one orgasm, or multiple, in a row, or one uninterrupted successive ecstasy. Irrelevant details ...she giggled inwardly…how sweet and caring and gentle he was, laying her on her back, he covered her, kissed her forehead with ‘Sleep my precious one’.

The warmth fluttering on her sensitive neck from wisps of exhaled breaths informed her that he’s awake, his lips trailed to the nape of her neck under her ear, making her whole body react to him, all of him, presence, voice, touch, and smell. She was aware of how much she needed him now. He was part of her, intensely vital, she needed him something fierce, it scared her how much he rooted himself in her, he planted his presence seeds, oh so pleasurably, the thought made her smile reveling in the remembrance, and she wished she were as much a part of him. Maybe she already is?

“Slept well precious pet?” His whispered question between nibbles stirred her out of her wandering reminiscences, she turned on her back and winced, when her still very sore behind grazed the sheets…”Mmmm …yes, thank you…Si…. Master?” She wanted to be sure about the appellation, about him accepting her declaration. He never told her to call him Master, and after yesterday, while screaming Master every time she was losing her mind to the whiplashes of ecstasy, and fulfillment, it would have been silly to call him Sir, not after yesterday’s carnal gluttony galore! But she also couldn’t call him Master, not now, not when she’s wide-awake, and not losing her cognizant and mental capacities.

It was one thing to call him Master while totally unhinged, and a different other to abdicate while being aware of what this entailed, and she is not ready, if she would be ready at all. But she wanted to know why he did not force her to do it, to call him Master, as she was sure he wanted her to.

He was gazing down at her, his head propped up on his right hand, his bend arm resting at the elbow, on his pillow. His gold irises streaked with red stripes, surrounding his slitted pupils were flickering merrily, his left hand, sneaked its way up from her stomach to under her breasts, under the comforter, and she blinked at him, breath hitching, then she gasped when his thumb and index finger pinched her right nipple, a shiver spreading from the excited nub in centrifugal waves to the entirety of her body.

“Yes precious slave?” he answered in a inquiring intonation, then he nuzzled her neck again, nibbling on the soft flesh, she giggled when he touched a ticklish spot. He found himself liking the sound of her giggles, it was similar to those chimes, tinkling in the soft breeze, he licked and nipped and she giggled again, his sweet pet is replete, and he likes this as well.

“No, I …I was asking …if…oh…if I am allowed to call you…oh…Master?” She finally was able to finish her sentence, unable to stop her squeals, when he added little bites here and there, her bladder made itself present with an irrevocable need to be emptied, oh Merlin! she might piss herself if he continued tickling her! He chuckled when her hands reflexively went to his bare wide chest to try and push him off of her.

“tsk tsk pet…Master wants a morning taste of his precious slave….yes pet you are not only allowed but you were always required to call me Master. I never wanted to force you to use it, until you felt at ease making use of it. Moreover I wanted you to feel the need to address me as such.”

Knowing that her cheeks are now competing with her bottoms’ for the ultimate tone of red ever, she was feeling shy and awkward, but she still wanted to know what this new step ahead entailed, why he waited for her, many questions were pushing one another, she decided to voice her inquiries. She was having a hard time concentrating though, what with his wandering hand on her torso, breasts and wandering south, his naked body and a certain 9.5 inches of a hard appendage poking her left upper thigh, her bladder was insisting that she needed to move now, or turn his huge bed into a huge potty.

How wonderful it sounds coming from the lips of his precious pet, ‘Master’! Oh the priceless instant when she, his precious one, cried her ecstasy to him, moaning Master! How long he waited to hear her offering her submission, willingly, freely, spontaneously, and she did it in the most significant of moments, whilst they were united in the throws of passion, in pleasure. Claiming her anal virginity was enhanced and made superlative with her submission’s gift because she recognized, identified, and accepted him for what he is, her Master, calling him Master, him and no one else. But that was in the heat of the moment, and he knows she will backpedal, her pride and stubbornness won’t allow her much choice, at least for now. Until she trusts him, she won’t willingly offer her submission to him, and that is how it should be, but Salazar knows he’s impatient, and waiting for her for two years, is not aiding his case.

She still does not understand fully the whole concept, she’s inexperienced, innocent, and so childlike sometimes, he will train her, explain everything to her, in due time, and also he will ask Lucius to bring Narcissa, since she’s his submissive, and of course Severus’ pet, what was her name already? He always forgets the chit’s name…anyway, Snape is also an excellent Dominant, and as experienced as Lucius and him, but where Lucius is less sadistic and more on the mild side of the sadism spectrum, Severus is a full-fledged cruel pain dispenser, more into sexual sadism, like him. He chuckled remembering some of their joint wild “scenes” with one submissive or another. His pet should be able to help as well, especially since she’s a pain-slut, as Severus told him.

His pet needs someone to talk to about it. Narcissa is as good and experienced sub as they come; Lucius saw to it, and trained her well, smiling sardonically recalling a ‘punishment’ that Lucius dished out in Severus and his presence to add to her humiliation Letting the Masters know how much of a naughty sub she was, as another type of punishment. She will guide her, be her confident, give her tips.

A woman always needs another woman to understand her, no matter how much a man tries; there are those, nooks and crannies, in a woman’s psyche, a twisted and complex maze of emotions and needs that defy the Triwizard’s one, and only a woman could answer these confusing mood swings. Miss Brown would be more than glad to dispense her experience, with her Master, to Hermione, the girls knew each other at a certain time in Hogwarts, it might be awkward at first, but his guess is that Hermione will be more than keen to absorb any knowledge, especially to ease herself into a stable and balanced emotional state.

Hermione felt her bladder about to explode, but her night robe was nowhere near, since the Dark Lord put her to bed yesterday, his bed, not her small uncomfortable pallet. How thoughtful of him, but now she needs to get to the loo! How will she get there? She cannot walk around naked, in front of him!

“Now you are being modest??’ the particular sneer that sounded so much like her prissy self, was spewing from her doppelganger, who was turning around the Master’s spanking bench, in his playroom. Looking at it and examining it, with down the nose looks, and scoffs and scowls.

‘I really do not need your lecture right now’

‘Want to go potty? Ask Master for permission why don’t you?’ The sarcasm was not lost on the squirming witch, she dismissed the annoying voice in her head, and cleared her throat, while trying to get the attention of the wizard licking, nibbling, caressing and fondling her.

“I need to use the lavatory…”

“Alright pet…go…” He smirked knowingly at her, and she knew her face was back to its tomato-head shade of red. Her dilemma was how to cover herself, she cannot take the comforter, or he will be naked, and she cannot sashay to the damn toilet, with her butt ass naked!

“I need my night robe, could you please accio the robe for me? Sir?”

Chuckling he accio’ed her robe, which she deftly put on, while still covered under the comforter, once sure she was securely sheathed, she jumped from the bed and hurried to the bathroom, not bothering about the soreness of her bottom.

She went back to the bedroom to see him still in bed waiting for her, his torso totally exposed, his groin barely covered.

“Come pet…let’s cuddle…” she looked at him bemusedly, he wants to cuddle? Doesn’t he have work to do? Another world to conquer or something, flicking his fingers to his palm in the come hither gesture, he then tapped the empty space near him. Heart beating fast, and eyes wandering over his naked and damn it… sexy body! She sat on the edge of the bed, and without taking off her robe, she sneaked under the sheets, and he instantly pulled her to his side. She breathed deeply, and then asked, “Why you did not force me to call you Master?”

“Because as I see it, I wanted your free choice, not an imposed one. I want it to be your choice to willingly accept me as your Master. I told you what I wanted, I said I am Master, but when you recognize and accept your submissive nature as it is, you will accept my gift of Dominance to you. Accept me as your Master. Besides, you would have resented, subconsciously, the word Master, based on its correlation with me, and the situation you woke up to, have I been the one compelling you to call me as such against your will. It would have been also a shame, for a natural submissive like you, to deny herself, rather deprive herself the fulfillment of calling her Dominant by his right title.”

“Natural submissive? What do you mean I am a natural submissive? Everyone knows how bossy I am…and…”

Chuckling he combed her disheveled wild mane with his fingers, kissed her nose and replied, ”Being submissive does not make you any less bossy, does not automatically categorize you as spineless, a doormat or less of a person, than anyone else. The word submissive describes your nature and in no way diminishes you as a human being. Being a submissive should never bring you shame or feelings of guilt, or undermine your self-respect and sense of worth. To the contrary, your submissive nature is a most beautiful gift and should always be a source of pride and happiness to you. Being a submissive should not make you feel afraid, insecure or threatened. In any situation you should feel safe or there can never be true surrender. And surrender comes with trust, I want you to trust me, fully, however I cannot force you to, I can prove my trustworthiness, and earn it, though I am in an already ‘dominant’ and powerful position as a Supreme Ruler, it does not negate that the foundation of such lifestyle pet, are applicable, at this point, as well. Otherwise I would be simply threatening, blackmailing and abusing you into submission; consequently I lose your gift of submission, gaining your hate and fear.”

“But I am still your slave as you call me…I am …spoils of war, I do not have the freedom to choose …”

“You always have the freedom to offer the gift of your submission or not. No one is your Master because they say so, it happens when the submissive in you reaches an understanding, when she admits to herself her longing to serve a Master. Only you could know when someone is your Master and it won't be when someone announces it to you. In fact it is the submissive that has the real control, without her, and her gift of submission, the Dominant controls nothing! But one thing to remember, your submission is a gift to me, as Dominant, this is true. It is also true that my Dominance is a gift to you. We need each other's gifts, and are both equally important for the D/s rapport to work. Too many submissives think it is a one-way gift, thus the Dominant's efforts are not recognized as a gift. I do not want you to fall into this same fallacy. I offer you my Dominance because I chose you, as much as you in return could accept my choice to be my precious slave.”

Hermione was all ears, she never thought of herself as a natural submissive, though from the couple of books she read, she suspected at the time, comparing some submission’s qualities with her calm and gentle nature, her predisposition to help and serve others, combined with her stickler for the rules propensity, whereas she never liked to lead or take control bar from academic accomplishments, add to it her self-discipline and unassuming character. At the time, she thought the books have shed some light on her paradoxical outer bossy self and her inner implicit need to relinquish control, be directed, to serve a man in specific, give him everything within her ability, she thought it was love, in its most selfless form, but she never assessed herself as submissive!

“Why do you often call me slave…Sir? Albeit when we are alone” She was confused by her own internal conflict, on the one hand liking more and more, the feel of this newly discovered part of her! As if tasting the expression’s appeal on her lips and tongue. Oddly she felt at ease, secure, and pleased! Just admitting that she is a submissive, is relieving her of so much tension! There’s an invisible weight that was lifted from her strained psyche, a confining wall, that for so long surrounded her, now disintegrated, she feels unrestrained more than she ever felt before, furthermore she likes the feel of this emancipation.

Yet…yet to even consider being his submissive isn’t as easy as he make it sound like! She spent 7 years of her life fighting against the wizard, and though the latest events proved to her that her fight was mislead by an even darker and conniving headmaster who was in truth a scoundrel, she just couldn’t bring herself to accept calling him Master and accept his gift of Dominance! Let alone the fact that she’s a fledgling in such lifestyle, or whatever they call it, a novice! He said she was his Protégée, everyone knows this, but this does not directly means she needs to prostrate herself before him, and start being a simpering fool, calling him Master, for Merlin’s sake!

Smiling gently to his still blushing pet, he tilted his head down and kissed her flushed forehead. His sweet, bashful, pretty slave. Seeking the precise words to explain exactly what does he mean by this term, caressing her silky skin, keeping contact, he replied, “I call you slave because you are mine, body, mind, heart and soul. I definitely do not use it when we have company because not all of them out there understand … I do not use it in the pejorative sense. You are mine. My most precious prize, and property… “

Hermione eyes gleamed with fiery outrage, scowling she was about to interrupt him, opening her mouth, to butt in, to object his objectifying her and telling him she’s no one’s property, least of all his, when he covered her mouth with his index finger and sternly reprimanded her, his voice a cold steel wrapped with silk, ”Another rule for you slave, Never interrupt Master ever. You will wait until given permission to speak. Now that this rule is clear, do not get on your high horse before I finish explaining slave. I will not punish you this time, because you’re inexperienced, although you are eager to learn and understand. But make no mistake pet, next time if you do not mind your attitude, you will taste my cat o' nine tails, and believe me slave, you do not want to acquaint yourself with it!”

The Gryffindor witch couldn’t believe her body’s reaction to him, the clamminess that infused her vaginal walls and was now oozing out! Although he was addressing her sternly, chiding her rude interruption, his evocatively deep pitch and persuasively alluring baritone quality wrecked havoc on the most sensitive parts of her body. Her responsiveness to his domineering attitude was starting to worry her silly. Merlin! It was affecting her now all the more, since she gave up on hiding behind alibis and denying her true submissive nature!

Not that she took a 180-degree turn around, not at all, now it does not upset her, like it did before, it is not unsettling her to accept this inherent trait of her character, and to be honest, she was always suspicious about herself, her true nature, but never voiced them to anyone, least of all her own bossy self. Who wants to give that mental know-it –all more ammunition?!

But these recurrent responsive reactions are getting ridiculous! What in Godric’s name is happening to her? He chastises her; she drools from both pairs of lips! He talks, she swoons! He kisses her, she convulses into a boneless gooey mess! He touches her; she is on fire and feverish! He has anal sex with her, and she is bellowing her endless?? climax to high heavens, with his name as a lingual paroxysm!

His dark authoritative presence and wickedly tempting voice again pulled her back to the issue at hand, “I have never called any of the women I possessed ‘slave’, they were simply submissives who accepted my Dominance as much as I accepted their submission. But you slave, you are my pet, my pretty witch, my precious one, you are special.” He continued caressing her hair, looking into her eyes while explaining to her his viewpoint.

“Due to circumstances, we started from a Total Power Exchange angle, because being a prisoner of war automatically put you in the unwilling ‘submissive’ position. On the other hand, I have unlimited power over you, being mine as spoils of war. Except, I do not want a war prisoner, as my slave. I could have many of those. No, I want a genuine willing, eager sub as my slave. I want you for my slave, at my feet, respectful thus respected. Needing to serve me, unable to resist the inner want inside of you to be at my beck and call, to tend to my desires, to service me, worship me, follow my orders, not because you are weak, or gutless, no, to the contrary because you are strong, and willful and intelligent, and are aware of your choice and desire to do so, to enslave yourself to me.”

“Sir…If I may…” He nodded to her to continue, “This is all new to me, I have to admit I need more time to adjust, and books for sure to read and be informed of this D/s dynamics, if you can provide some?”

Smiling proudly to her, he kissed her deeply, voraciously, taking her breath away, he lifted up his head, licked his lips, his eyes shrouded with beaming enticing indecent expressions, which made her stomach flutters escalate, and her body quaver in an impatient anticipation, missing his touch already.

“I am proud of you my pet, for wanting to know and understand. You can find all the books you need on the subject in the Library, and I will ask Narcissa and Miss brown to come and talk to you about their own experiences.”

Seeing she was fidgeting and wanting to ask something, he smiled and told her “ You have permission to ask pet.”

“Thank you Sir…erm…when you said Narcissa, you meant Narcissa Malfoy, and Miss Brown? Lavender?”

Smirking he replied” Yes and yes, Ah! her first name is Lavender, I was trying to remember it, yes pet, she is Severus submissive.”

“Was she forced to be his slave or pet or sub or whatever you call it…or …it was her choice?” This was very important for her to know, if she was forced then it is self explanatory, but if it was her choice, then this might help her if she spoke with her, asked her about he she took her final decision and all the criteria that were involved.

Breathing deep the Dark Lord searched her face to gauge her emotional state, and make sure she was relaxed and ready to accept, and moreover believe him and what he is telling her, he answered frankly and flatly ” Her choice pet. No one forced her hand. She works in the Center, as you know. Before that, some war sufferers needed PTSD or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder treatment, to overcome and cope with the aftermath of war, the new world, and get over the lies and brainwashing done by that crook Dumbledore. She was one of them. Severus helped her, a lot actually, and they actually fit together quiet well, whether as a couple or as sadist Dominant and his masochist submissive.”

Hermione couldn’t believe her ears when he said their names. Oh My Godric! And to think the haughty, stick up her ass Narcissa, the arrogant pureblood married into another pureblood family, with that look down her nose at ‘you all, so beneath me’ attitude, was a submissive? To a Dom Lucius! Well no surprise there, really! He is one hell of an authoritative, scary, dark wizard!

And Lavender?? Lavender is with Severus, she knows this, and Isis if anyone could pull a Dominant without even trying to, it would be Severus! Damn! So that is why she was so attracted to him?! Her inner hidden submissive nature, at the time, recognized the Dominant in him? But now, now she’s got by her side, the Ultimate Dominant ever, and he wants her to be his sub, willingly, Merlin knows she was so tempted…urghhh…. not helping! Down hormones and libido, not the time to screw this opportunity to learn more about herself, to shed some light on this inner submissive still unknown to her at least, and what would become of her, what it would entail when…IF, not when, IF she’s ever to consider accepting his offer.

“IF I accept being …If I accept your offer, I am not saying I accept just want to know what will happen to me, how will I be treated?”

“Before I say anything, I want you to trust that you will never be treated unfairly, because the Dominant in me will never allow it! I will never abuse you, or the precious gift of your submission to me, when you are ready to give it. Though you could refuse, and continue resisting me, but as a result, and after all is said and done, you would be, first and foremost, resisting your own desires and needs. Now to answer your question, let me remind you, it is up to you, it is your choice. Submitting to me as your Master means, you accepted being my prized possession, my most valuable property, to have total control over you, knowing and trusting that I will never use you and then throw you away, like a toy, or abuse your trust.”

Looking her square in the eyes, he continued by saying, “I want you to understand though, when you think about this, your life is my responsibility, your well-being is my obligation, your psychological, sexual, and social needs, are my duties. What we will have, when you are to offer me your submission, is totally based on a power exchange between the Dominant, Me, and the submissive, you. This power exchange takes place on an intellectual, physical and psychological level, with you as sub deferring to Me as Dom in the decision making process, control, rights, rules, and everything concerning you, your requests and requirements. Hence you would be elevated when are humbled, having control while having none, cherished and adored because prostrating yourself at my feet, relinquishing yourself to me, gives me the authority to return your trust by taking care of you.”

The witch was listening, though not all of what he said sat well with her, but she did not commit the same mistake by interrupting him, she listened intently, and thinking of Narcissa and Lavender, have they done the same thing? Relinquishing everything to their Masters? She focused to her what he still got to say.

“I protect you and provide to you, and fulfill you, in all aspects of your life. And if you were not mine, why would I do all of this? When you relinquish yourself to me, I will own you; you will be my property, not to damage or demean you, but to take care of you, as your owner, and Master. I am jealous of my possessions, and allow no one to spoil them, steal them, or even touch them without my permission! And you precious slave, when you decide to accept me as your one and only Master, your Lord and owner, you will be untouchable, you will be esteemed above all women, and revered as my Chosen One. Understand slave, you are mine forever!”
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Plenitude