Pareo: Obey | By : kateofallpeople Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 59757 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 9 |
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, characters, etc. I sadly make no money from this. |
"'ny news on Quiddi'?" Ron stammered out a question with his mouth full of roast chicken. Harry looked up from where he'd been pushing peas around on his plate and shook his head.
"No. I tried asking, but McGonagall just told me she'd already let out enough about her plans for it. It's not going to be segregated by house. Anyone can join any team... you going to try out?"
Ron nodded vigorously, swallowing this time before speaking. He also dropped his left hand underneath the table, letting it come to rest on Hermione's thigh.
She could have jumped through the roof. She'd been quiet all of Tuesday and most of Wednesday. Every time she opened her mouth she was afraid she'd spill out exactly what had taken place on Monday, and every time that happened she felt her face flush with shame. She had rarely done that before, and never when thinking about a specific person. The handful of times she'd locked a door, spent a few moments to herself, and released her stress, she'd only thought of a vague idea of sex - of what it would feel like. Of what she'd read and researched. But seeing his face and his broad shoulders as she'd trembled in her four-poster - well, that was something she didn't want to think about, even now. She'd successfully avoided him for all of Tuesday and Wednesday, even forcing herself to look down at her desk and miss the opportunity to answer easy questions in class, so that she wouldn't accidentally make eye contact with him during one of the two classes they had together.
He'd figured out her secret so quickly - but how? Had her being hit with that curse been planned, even before the final battle? But what use was that? Why wouldn't a Death Eater just kill her, if he wanted her gone?
She remembered what happened. Her wand pointing towards Ron. How she only barely missed him before feeling the release that meant the spellcaster was dead. But she was still forced to obey commands... perhaps it did have something to do with what Draco was talking about. Ancient magic - it made sense. But how would he have known, in the first place? How could he have guessed that it was an ancient curse causing her to step out of the way instead of her usual polite, somewhat quiet nature? She might ask him, one day. If she ever got the nerves.
"I'd just hate to have to play on the same team as Malfoy..."
Ron grimaced, looking over Harry's shoulder to the Slytherin table, where Draco now sat. Hermione stole a glace too, though she turned quickly back. Harry shook his head.
"Me too, but think about the Quidditch possibilities. Playing on a team with Malfoy, well, he's one of the best. We'd win every match, easily..."
"I'd rather have to play against him and beat his arse anyway." Ron nodded, grinning. "I'd rather have the chance to knock him off his broom for fun."
Harry chuckled, and the boys continued talking for only a minute before one word caught her attention.
"Well, it's Thursday. Got Potions in a few, better get moving..." Harry stood, heaving his bag over his shoulder. "You both coming?"
Hermione dropped her fork, joining Harry. She didn't think she could handle being left alone with Ron while he wasted another few minutes eating. Not after the other night. Not after what she was sure to come. Thursday meant patrol. Thursday meant another night with Draco Malfoy.
"Yes, I'd better join you. I wanted to get there early anyway, I have something I'd like to look over and it's much too loud here." Ron looked at her for a moment, if only briefly wishing she'd stay with him for another few minutes. But a newly appearing plate of sausages caught his attention, and Hermione knew she was safe, at least for a little while.
"You two go on then, I'll get there when I get there." Ron grinned through a mouthful of sausages, allowing Hermione to walk quickly ahead, even ahead of Harry, who called out to her as she disappeared into the crowded hall.
She'd considered going to McGonagall and insisting that her patrol partner be changed. She'd been thinking about that since before their little 'patrol' on Monday. But she already knew what the older woman would say. She knew it as easily as she knew the reason they'd been matched in the first place. The theme that year was an overwhelming attempt at House Unity. At forging new friendships. And what better example than herself and Draco? Hermione knew that any attempt at a switch would be futile. McGonagall wanted Hermione and Draco to be an example for all younger students - and for those in their own year, as well. She wanted them to be proof that two previous enemies could work together, tolerate one another, and not shout at each other in the hallways. Perhaps that would happen, after a year, if it hadn't been Draco. If Monday night hadn't happened. If he didn't know the secret that threatened to destroy her.
She knew where this could lead. Pareo forced her to obey every command. He could force her to say things she didn't mean. To do cruel things, or things like Monday. He could send her jumping off the highest tower at Hogwarts, right after Dumbledore. He could kill her, but worse than that he could ruin her life while she still had it. And despite the fact that somehow, he'd been pardoned and allowed to return to school, she knew that a dark heart still made up the whole of Draco Malfoy. She knew that this could not end well. But what was her other option? She had no idea if this curse could ever be removed. She had no idea if she'd ever be able to follow only her own will again. And what if she went to someone for help? That would just be one more person who knew her secret. She'd thought about telling Ron, but she knew he wouldn't be able to take it seriously. He'd take advantage of silly things like making Hermione do his homework, like making her give him answers in class or things like that. She'd thought about telling Harry, but his first move would be to run to McGonagall and tell her, and Hermione knew that was an even worse idea. While at first, the idea of telling McGonagall had seemed like the only feasible way out, she realized it would get her extracted from Hogwarts and probably sent to St Mungo's for testing. Dangerous curse-removal-type testing. And she might never return from that.
Worst of all was realizing that Draco could have forced her to do much worse on Monday. He'd known for days. He'd been watching her. Yet, while he had embarrassed her half to death, and made her think of him while she pleasured herself, she could only think that he could have done much worse. Well, today was another day. She could still feel the tips of her fingers in that heated spot, pressing harder when she thought of Draco walking up behind her, his chest pressed against her back.
Moments later, she'd feel a slight dampness pool between her legs. She'd excuse herself from Potions, she'd have to walk right by his table. She'd take her bookbag with her - she wouldn't be returning to Potions that day. Instead, she'd walk the long hallways to Gryffindor tower, shut herself in her four poster, and take a nap. In the end, it was the only thing that could keep her from reliving Monday night, sans ordre. When she woke for her next class, she'd have to change her knickers. A first.
She shivered, despite the fact that it was still warm outside the castle walls. She'd worn her most modest sweater and jeans, but she knew that it wasn't what he saw that would force his hand. It was her curse. It was their turn to patrol the area outside Hogwarts, to look for any students sneaking around out of bed. In the first weeks, it was usually handfuls of adventurous first years, trying to see more of the grounds. In the months after, it was the older students, years four or five and up, looking for private time with one other student or for a little rule breaking adventure.
"You're early. Surprise, surprise."
She didn't turn to face him, she knew what she'd see. Hands in his pockets, smirk on his face. Brows raised, broad shoulders and... she stopped.
"I'm always on time, Draco. I was early last time, if you don't remember."
"Oh, I remember Monday very well." He walked around, trying to face her, but she continued to turn away from him. Hermione should have realized sooner that he was much quicker. One large step and he was directly in front of her, facing her. "And considering the fact that you haven't reported me or killed me in my sleep, I'm assuming you're conflicted about it."
"I can't report you. If I did, that would just mean one more person knew about my curse."
She heard a long, slow intake of breath. "Ah. And more details come to surface. Nobody else knows, then?"
"Nobody knew. I had intended to keep it a secret as long as I could. Not Harry, not Ron, nobody."
"Nobody except me. And that, Granger, is overwhelmingly due to the fact that I'm equally as clever as you, and equally as curious. I noticed it very early on. A commanding personality and a girl with a curse. It was bound to happen, patrol or not. Speaking of." He began walking at a slow pace. There was no need to rush. Night patrol outside the castle was usually the easiest, and most boring. If no one snuck out, it was simply a few laps around the castle. If someone did sneak, it was a few less laps and a trip to the Headmistress' office. Hermione hesitated before following him, but it was her duty. What was her other option, to run back to the dormitories and have Draco rat her out to McGonagall? Unlikely. Hermione Granger was known for lots of things, but silly rule breaking was not one of them. She walked beside him, keeping her eyes trained on her feet.
They walked in silence for many minutes before realizing that this was going to be more of a boring night on patrol - for now. There were no students out of bed, no one to take points from or to send to their inevitable detention. Hermione kept her lips sealed for as long as she could, but as Draco cleared her throat, she knew that couldn't last forever.
"How was Monday night?"
"You're ridiculous. I should kill you on the spot."
"But you won't. Too good for that, aren't you? But not too good to think about me while you... well, you know what you did. That's enough."
Hermione looked up to see the pleased sort of smirk on his face. She could spit venom. "I only did it because I was forced to."
"But you enjoyed it. I never said you had to enjoy it."
The verbal venom stuck in her throat. He was right. He'd never ordered her to enjoy it. That was purely hers. It was more disgusting than if he'd forced it. She had half a mind to tell him how disgusting he was, when he asked her a simple question.
"What did you think about?"
"You. You know that. You forced it."
"But what specifically. Tell me, now."
"You... you..." She thought of it all at once. Backwards and forwards, it was a blur. "Your shoulders. You stepping up behind me, pressing against my back. Your breath against my ear."
He paused a second, stepping behind her, not touching her. She could feel his head lower beside hers, his lips just an inch from her ear. "Like this?"
She was paralyzed, though not by fear. What sort of trickery was this? He'd never ordered her to enjoy it. He'd never forced that. So why had she gone moist again? She had an inkling of an idea - masculinity, height, power. She was a girl, after all, and one who was very curious.
"Yes."
She heard a small sound of amusement behind her ear before he stepped out beside her again. "Good." They walked in silence for a few minutes longer. Hermione felt... what did she feel? Embarrassment? Less that, than a wholly consuming curiosity. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to kill him. But she also wondered where this was going, and whether or not she'd be alright with the outcome. On the far side of the castle, facing the lake, he stopped again. It was darkest on this side, she could hardly see a thing except for a small reflection in his eyes. He said one word - stop - and she knew something was coming.
"What else are you curious about, Hermione?"
"Firstly, I'm now curious why you've just called me by my given name."
He laughed a full, hearty laugh. She hadn't expected the sound - it sounded like any other laughter, and much less like the cackle she'd been expecting. "That, strange girl, is because I'm getting ahead of myself. Don't you worry about that. I'm going to ask you a few more things. Again, you must be completely honest with me. Is that understood?"
She felt her agreement roll off her tongue, but she could hardly believe the situation again. "Yes."
"Good, good... there's really only one thing I want to hear this time, and then we'll go on to discuss other matters. Monday night - when you were thinking of me - did any part of you believe that you should be thinking about Ron Weasley?"
How could he do that? How could he, in one question, make her doubt such an important part of her life? "No."
"I'm assuming it's because you think of him as a friend, a brother, like you told me before. Correct?"
"Correct." She knew that. She'd known that since before Monday. She loved Ron, she did, but she couldn't imagine a physical side to their relationship without laughing.
She saw no change in his face, nothing to betray feeling pleased or displeased. She stood, waiting for another question or direction, for some time. None came for so long that she thought she might be okay this time, but he shifted his weight and opened his mouth for a moment before speaking.
He stepped towards her, his lips still parted, and through a small bit of light could see something reflected in his eyes. It was more than curiosity, it was something driving him, something in his own head that didn't look friendly.
"Did you lose control?"
She could feel the answer spiraling around her, and was suddenly aware of the fact that this answer would not please him. "No."
He grunted, stepping closer until he towered over her, his eyes narrow. "Why?"
"I... I don't know. I just couldn't."
"Was it because I told you to touch yourself?"
"Maybe, I..."
"What is it then?"
"I don't know! I have no experience with this, Malfoy. The one time I've been touched by someone else, it was Ron and I felt nothing. Less than when I touch myself." She slammed her lips together, trying to keep the rest of it in, but she could feel her own mouth betraying her. "But I've never even had an experience with anyone else. Snogging, with Viktor Krum, but I have no experience beyond that, that would give me some idea of what losing control is supposed to feel like."
He did not step backwards, but she could feel his intensity relax, if only fractionally. "I see. In asking you about your experience with Weasley, I forgot that you might not have experience otherwise. You're eighteen and you've never been touched, not in a way that pleased you. You've never felt the thrill of a man, have you?"
"No."
"Have you ever fantasized about anyone? Thought about anyone sexually?"
"Other than... other than Monday, no."
He huffed out a breath, and stepped back a half step. It was enough to let her breath, but he just huffed again, looking around. "Well. This is going to be harder than I thought. Trying to make Hermione Granger lose control, and she's never even thought about a man before. Don't tell me you've thought about a woman, or anything..."
"No, not my area."
"Hmm."
Was that all? Was he going to mock her now for being a virgin, and on top of that a virgin who'd never even seriously thought about sex before? She knew it had been at least an hour since they'd begun, but that meant another hour of patrol before she was free. Before she could think of a way to pass an hour's time without having to answer any more questions, he moved. All he did was put his hand on her waist.
All he did was brush his thumb against her ribs, and it felt like her spine had caught fire. Her lower back ached. He'd been the only man she'd ever thought about while she was turned on, and even if that was by his own order, it clearly still mattered long after the fact. He groaned, stepped towards her again.
"Have you thought about it since then? About me?"
"I... this morning. I left Potions."
"Was that why? I noticed your sudden exit, thought it might have something to do with being forced to be in the same room as me. I never imagined that it was because you'd been thinking about me."
She said nothing. She didn't have to, he didn't ask. Her simple explanation had been enough. No matter how much she hated what he was doing, no matter how afraid she was that he knew about her curse, he had one thing now that she'd never be able to forget - the way she'd moved against her own hand when she thought about his shoulders, his arms. She knew it as well as he. He stepped back, dropping his hand from her waist, and she was torn. She hated him. He'd seen her tortured. He'd mocked her in their youth. But he'd been the one to encourage, in a much more direct way, that she explore something that she'd been missing. She ached where his hand had left her side.
Only when he turned to walk away, around a corner and into light flooding in from torches lining the front of the castle, did she see something she hadn't counted on - a rising bulge in the front of his jeans. The thick fabric kept it from showing too much, but Hermione was utterly shocked to learn that Draco had gotten hard, thinking about what had happened. Thinking about anything that had to do with her. And her mind wandered, all over again, for a few brief moments.
Then, an idea struck. Malfoy wasn't the only one who could ask a few mortifying questions. She cleared her throat and watched him take one more step, turning away slightly with his foot as if to hide his excitement.
"I know that's not a flashlight in your pocket, you wouldn't need one."
She'd expected a triumph, a small victory. She'd expected him to deny it or find a way around it. Instead, he turned back towards her, that same glint in his eyes, and crossed the space between them in three strides, backing her up against the outer walls of the castle until she smacked her head against the stone. He did not stop when she couldn't back up any further, he inched in and pressed himself flush against her. His hands pinned her arms and shoulders to the stone behind her, his head was bent over hers. This had gone wrong, he was pushing her roughly against the rock. But she could feel his erection, now full against her belly. Being in control was making him hard, and it frightened her.
"Mock me again."
He clearly hadn't realized the weight of his words. Now she'd have to. "A little worked up, are you? Do you get off on things like this? Is that what this is about, pleasing yourself by being in control?"
The noise that came from his throat was hardly human, and he shook her against the stone. "Don't think you can get one up on me. If I wanted, I could make you do things worse than death. And in time, perhaps I will. If I get off on ordering you around, on ordering you to do things that please me, then that's my vice to choose. You, however, have no choice in the matter. And as you've said, telling on me is still not in your best interests. The moment you decided to rat me out, I rat you out, are we clear? The entire school would know, the entire wizarding world. You'd be a freak. You'd be used worse than I'll use you, are we clear?"
"You'd still be the one with the erection pressing against my belly." She hadn't meant to say that, but the adrenaline had been almost as convincing as Pareo.
She felt his fingers tense around her arms only briefly, then relax. She expected rage, she expected anger, but she hadn't expected this.
"I'm getting tired of your mouth, girl. Let's see if we can find some use of it. Get on your knees."
Her eyes went wide, bigger than the moon above their heads. She wanted to protest. To say no. She'd never... she wasn't sure... but the cool ground felt nice on her knees, and she was suddenly eye-level with the very erection she'd just mocked. She knew what was coming, there was no use in fighting it. And yet... curiosity niggled at the front of her mind. Perhaps her clothes had been off, but Ron's hadn't fully. She'd touched Ron's through his pants, but hadn't ever seen one in person. That was about to change. She didn't want to - she wouldn't have been down here if he hadn't ordered her to - but some small part of her was curious enough to keep her from shouting. That same part of her was probably in too much shock to do any shouting, anyway.
He undid his belt, letting it hang, and then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants in one deft motion. His jeans and boxers didn't fall far, they fit his frame well, and without the binding action of the thick fabric holding him back, Malfoy's erection bounced upwards, coming to rest as it touched the tip of her nose. Oh.
She'd never seen one in person before, so seeing one this up close and personal was a bit overwhelming. The skin that touched her nose was soft, silky even. She couldn't see much else until she leaned back slightly, and though she'd expected his member to dip and weigh down, it barely moved. This movement, however, afforded her a much better view of what was before her. All disgust at the situation was put temporarily at bay, blinded for a moment by her desire to learn more, to see, to know. From what she'd read, the average erection was only around fourteen centimeters long. Malfoy's made the average look like a finger. She estimated twenty-three centimeters. It wasn't freakishly long, but the width of it surprised her. It had to be almost four centimeters across, and if she wasn't stunned as she was, she'd have done the math to figure out circumference. She had time for that later. Draco had wide shoulders, yes, but he was by no means a large man.
Well, not in some senses. She shook her head slightly, trying to rid herself of the ridiculous realization of what she was probably going to have to do. She didn't like the idea of it at all, and certainly not for his pleasure. It only took another moment of her staring before she looked up at him.
"Oh, you know another order is coming then. Expecting it. Good, you're not far off. Tell me, do you like what you see?"
"I don't know. It's the only one I've ever seen, though it is bigger than I've read the average is."
He chuckled, slowly pushing his hips forward so that his cock ran against her cheek. "Yes, yes it is. Good thing for you, you have a big mouth and might be able to accommodate it. Open your mouth."
She didn't want to put that in her mouth. Firstly because it was his, second because it was huge. She wasn't sure it would even fit. But a moment later, he reached out and placed his hand on the back of her head, easing her forward.
She felt the head slide against her tongue, and it was so smooth. Smoother than any skin she'd felt before, and slick. Her tongue naturally depressed as far down into her mouth as it could go, allowing him to press forward, testing the waters. She closed her lips around him on instinct, and he groaned. If she'd have taken half a moment to really consider the situation, she would have been... disgusted? No. Scrutinizing? Maybe.
He pressed in a little more and she could feel her throat begin to protest. He pulled back an inch or two and she realized he'd only been a little more than halfway in. He paused for a moment before humming to himself for a split second.
"Ah, I have one idea. Do not gag. I forbid you to gag." He slid his length back into her mouth and she found that there was no refusal from her throat this time. He slid farther into her, and she felt him at the back of her throat. His fingers dove through her hair, pulling her mouth farther onto him. She felt the head slip past the back of her throat, a little more...
The fleshy bit that hit her chin meant that all of him was inside her mouth now. His small groans turned into open-mouthed, ecstatic moans. "You've got the magic mouth, Granger. Your curse may be a burden to you, but it's a blessing for me." He slid out of her throat, but stayed in her mouth. She could feel the slick of her saliva on her lips, which formed a wide round circle around him. "Now, I want you to please me. Suck. Now." Her lips tightened around him, and her head moved back and forth. This was easier than she thought, and by the sounds coming from his mouth she had to be doing something right. At least something hadn't gone wrong - she feared what might happen if he was displeased, if he was angry. She remembered him pinning her against the stone walls of the castle. He had been completely in charge. She'd hated it. Mostly. "Faster. And do a little more."
She started moving her tongue alone with her mouth, lapping at the underside of his throbbing member as she increased speed. At this he gripped her hair tighter, a bunch of her wild curls in each hand. It pulled a little as she moved her mouth onto him, but it wasn't as if she could speak up and say anything to get him to stop. Not in this predicament. She was almost learning, was almost letting her inquisitiveness win out, but then something changed in him. Did he grow impatient? Was he unhappy? All she knew was that he went from letting her move her head, to moving it for her. His vice grip on her hair was forcing her head back and forth, rushing over his cock so fast that it nearly gave her a headache.
He grunted again, and nudged her legs. "Put your back on the wall." She pulled back, her mouth free for a brief moment. She kneeled, sitting on her ankles with her back against the wall. He moved towards her again, cock in hand. "Open, again. And hold still."
She obeyed, closing her eyes as she did so. Watching his pelvic area thrust in and out of focus was dizzying. In a moment almost too weird for the situation he reached behind her and placed a hand behind her head. Moments later she realized she'd stopped hitting her skull against the rock wall, and instead on his warm hand. She hated this. But he was doing something to her even then, something less obvious. He was getting the best of her mind, the best of her very nature. She wanted to learn. She wanted to know. She'd be too afraid to go about it herself. Neither of them knew it at the time, but as Draco thrust himself through her lips, down her throat, he was starting a torrid affair between them that both would come to desire and despise equally.
Moments later he pulled himself from her mouth, and came on the ground beside her. Hermione watched with bated breath as he stroked himself once, twice, thrice before he shuddered, emptying spurt after spurt of milky white liquid onto the grass beside himself. Once he'd finished, Hermione looked away quickly, wiping her mouth. She was ashamed, she was horrified. She was turned on. He tucked himself back into place, refastening his jeans and belt.
"Stand up. Patrol is almost over and if we're late back, they'll know."
There was a question she wanted to ask, but wasn't sure how to form the words. What if he got mad? What if he used that against her?
"Draco I... if your intent is force, why didn't you finish in my mouth."
He stopped, frozen in his tracks. If she could know how her words had shaken him...
"Because I figure what I've done tonight is enough. You've learned a lesson in mouthing off to someone who knows about your little secret - don't. But the next time you sass me, we'll see if I don't change my mind." They stepped through the front doors of Hogwarts Castle, walking towards the grand staircase that would lead them towards what was previously Gryffindor Tower. She'd almost forgotten that he now resided there, too.
She pondered her next statement carefully. "I don't... You ordered me to, by the way."
"What are you talking about?" He furrowed his brow, looking at her intently.
"You told me to. You said, and I quote, 'Mock me again'. I had to."
He let this sink in for a moment, then grinned. "Well, then, I did it because I felt like it. Also, because I know you'll be thinking about it for the next four days until patrol on Monday. Or, even better, until tomorrow's prefect meeting."
He was right. She was thinking about it now. The very idea of it, prior to tonight, had disgusted her and at times frightened her. How could she put something like that in her mouth? How would it fit? Draco had found a clever way around that, using her own curse to put her at more comfort and to get himself a little deeper. They were silent all the way up the stairs and through the portrait hole. She said nothing to him before stomping up the stairs towards her dormitory, the only two students awake in the common room barely noticing their arrival.
She shut herself in her four poster and slept in her clothes, her hair still messy from that evenings events. She hoped the students in the common room hadn't noticed that. She doubted she'd be able to sleep, but then her racing mind had tired her out faster than she expected.
The next morning at breakfast, she tried her damnedest to act normal. 'Normal' was nearly impossible when she considered that last night, she'd given oral sex to a man who was not her boyfriend, sitting beside her with his hand on her thigh. That last night, she'd done the unthinkable. Normal became even harder when she heard a whisper and a thought shoved its way into her mind - Draco's cock deep in her mouth, a bead of saliva threatening to drip down her chin. Her eyes widened, looking across the room, down the table. What was it about paranoia that made people think that anyone around them could read their thoughts?
"Hermione? You okay?"
"Yes, Harry. I'm fine."
"Alright, you looked a little... what did Malfoy have to say to you?"
Hermione jumped. "He... Malfoy?"
Harry looked at her like she'd just spoken another language. "Yes, Malfoy. He just walked right behind you. Bent down and whispered something to you."
So that was it. She whipped her head in the direction of the doors at the end of the Great Hall to see him staring at her, his face an unreadable mask. He'd snuck right by her friends and dropped the image in her mind, just to remind her. As if she needed reminding.
"Right. Just something about Patrol last night. McGonagall is having us try a new... a new path. Says that students have been memorizing the paths and sneaking around the prefects to stay out later. He was just making sure I remembered the prefect meeting, I'd left the room at the time."
"Malfoy was reminding you? As if he needed to." Ron snorted, shoveling another bite of eggs into his mouth. Harry laughed, turning towards Hermione.
"And what's the deal with that, anyway? Malfoy's never done a good thing in his life, let alone remind you of something."
She nearly spit out her juice, but righted herself quickly. "Well, can't explain that. Not at all."
Ron didn't look at her twice, but something about Harry's lingering gaze frightened her. He couldn't possibly know what had happened last night, not that he would even have an inkling of an idea of everything coming together. Her curse. Malfoy knowing. Malfoy's orders. Her own curiosity. She smiled at Harry as best as she could, looking down into her plate. Staring back at her was a breakfast sausage. It wasn't nearly as large as the one she'd just seen again in her thoughts.
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