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To Kill A Swan	By : Dylan_Harper Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 25061 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, the original story, or the Harry Potter fandom. This is a creation of my imagination and meant for fun alone, I do not make any money off of this. Any resemblance to real people or story lines is pure c

Chapter List
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Thanks everybody for all the support! It really means so much to me. I need to clarify something. When I originally wrote this story, she had been taken AFTER the Battle of Hogwarts. Upon rewriting it, I made the decision to have her be taken before that as you'll see in this chapter. That one decision has now given me so much more room for creative license it's ridiculous. I'm sure for you clever cloggs out there you'll figure out what that means before I've even posted the next chapter, but I thought I'd give you guys some juicy semi-spoilers.
ENJOY!!

CHAPTER THREE
The next day when her food came, Hermione broke her usual pattern. She inspected it for a while before deeming it safe. She didn’t know what kind of potion the water was, but if she had been drinking it for months without any side effects, what was the harm? She took a sip of it, leaning back against the cell. This was always the worst part of the day. The waiting. It gave her time to think about what she had done.
The last thing she remembered before being here, was Ron’s face. The look of betrayal as she let him die. It wasn’t that she intended for him to die, quite the opposite. She just didn’t put up a fight. It had been at the Lovegood’s that everything had changed. Somehow, Harry had gotten separated from them while they were apparating. When Hermione and Ron had landed, they had argued about what to do next. She had made the mistake of using Voldemort’s name and it was in an instant that the Snatchers were upon them.
They ran, but eventually they were caught. When Scabior recognized her, they took her and Ron to Malfoy Manor. They sent Ron into the dungeons while Bellatrix tortured her. When she wouldn’t tell them where Harry was, they brought Ron back up. He fought them, but it was useless. They told her that if she told them where Harry was, they would let both of them live. ‘No reason for all of you to die, now is there?’ they had said.
‘I can’t, I don’t know where he is, we got separated!’ No matter how hard she had tried, no matter how many times she said it, the torturing just got worse and worse. After an hour, they brought him up close to her, close enough she could smell the blood on him.
‘Always remember you could have avoided this.’ A tear slid down Hermione’s cheek as she remembered the look of betrayal as they slit his throat in front of her. Ever since then, she had blamed herself for his death. Every day she thought of different spells or maneuvers she could have used to save him, and every day the guilt got worse. She was as bad as them.
It was then that her cell door creaked open. They came in as they had before, blinding her and deafening her before stripping her of the scraps of cloth that were her clothes.
This time, they didn’t gaze upon her naked and bruised body like before, the dove right in. One grabbed her breasts, squeezing them roughly. For the first time ever, he nipples responded by getting hard. They had never done that with them, was it because of her experience with Malfoy?
Another man bit at her skin, sending chills of pleasure up her spine. A third man roughly shoved his fingers inside her, the pain giving her pleasure and making her wet. When the men realized Hermione was actually enjoying their brutality, they upped their game. One man sat her on top of his cock, while another pushed in next to him, stretching her pussy beyond anything she had ever felt. She cried out in pain and pleasure, her nails digging into whoever’s chest was in front of her.
The two men inside her thrust together at a brutal pace, one spanking her arse hard as they did. It was within a few minutes of them doing this that she came hard, coating their cocks and their bodies with the proof of her orgasm. The men pinched and grabbed at her body, thrusting harder. What felt like a third cock pushed into her arse, filling her completely. That was when Hermione started imagining that it was Draco doing all of this to her. Somehow he had cloned himself and was giving her the best pleasure of her life. The pain from their brutality hadn’t lessened, but it now gave her pleasure.
What was wrong with her that now of all times, them raping her gave her pleasure? Was there something new in the water? She still hadn’t figured out whether it was really water or not. Another thought occurred to her, if he was so keen on taking his property, why was he letting these men rape her? Better question, why was he letting them give her pleasure? She had always taken him as the jealous, possessive type.
Before the war, she would have told anyone who asked that she hated possessive and jealous men. Their jealousy would push them to do terrible and sometimes stupid things. Now? Draco had claimed her. Told her she was his property. And it turned her on. It was probably because that meant there was no question what their relationship was. He was her Master, she his slave. If their encounter had happened before the war, she would have worried herself silly with all the details. It was actually kind of freeing, not having to worry about that.
The realization that she thought being a slave was freeing struck her as odd. She would have to do anything and everything he told her to do, whatever that entailed. She should feel the opposite of free. She should feel like a trapped animal. But she didn’t.
A forceful and brutal thrust brought her back to her cell, to the men having their way with her. The suddenness of the pain-pleasure pushed her over the edge of her second orgasm with them, causing her muscles to tighten around every cock inside her. The men all came their release, filling her completely with their seed before leaving her as they always did, alone, cold, and covered in fluids that weren’t her own.
Hermione spent the rest of the night contemplating what she had discovered about herself that afternoon.

The next few days went by without much of anything happening. And by not much, it meant Draco had not visited her, nor had the other men. Hermione never thought that she would ever crave being fucked so hard she couldn’t think straight, but there she was, on the fifth day of nobody touching her and she was a nervous wreck.
Had Draco forgotten about her? Was he doing this on purpose? All Hermione knew was that she actually missed being beaten and the painful-pleasure of the sex she had with them and she felt like a drug addict. Was there something addictive in the water? Something that she now linked to the rough sex and therefore needed it like a heroin addict needed just one more bowl? A cocaine addict needed just one more bump?
Would there be side effects to this addiction of hers? What would happen to her if they didn’t come back for longer than a couple more days? She was already sweating and jittery. How much worse was it going to get before they came back? Was this going to happen every time they were gone for more than a day or two?

Draco kept a close eye on his little slave’s mental health. He needed to see just how strong their connection, mental and physical, was. By the fifth day, she was responding just like he’d hoped, like an addict on a detox. He had known from experience that if he truly wanted to break someone, especially someone as strong-willed as Hermione, he needed to get her addicted to him. Not just him as a person, but the feelings and emotions she got from him.
For going on seven months, Draco had Hermione believing that she was being beaten and raped almost every single day. That meant that her body had become accustomed to the higher levels of adrenalin in her system. Now that her body wasn’t getting that adrenalin, it was literally going through withdrawals. It would only be a matter of time before her body really started shutting down.
He would wait. Draco would wait until his little slave was so desperate for him that she begged for her Master. Then she would associate the pain-pleasure not just with him, but with her calling him Master. He had noticed that she no longer called him Malfoy in her head but Draco. That’s how he had known she was ready for this crucial step. If she broke and called him Master, she truly was his and his alone. If she didn’t, she would surely die.

On the sixth day, Hermione started crying and begging anyone within earshot to please send Draco in. She needed him. In every way imaginable, she needed him. Her body shook from the withdrawals. After several hours, she started yelling to him, hoping he could hear her. She begged for him to come put his cock inside her, to make her cum like he had before, but it all seemed to fall on deaf ears.
By the seventh day, Hermione had given up on begging and pleading and moved to demanding. She demanded that he answer her questions. She demanded that he come down and face her like a man. When insulting his manhood didn’t work, she moved back to her corner, curling up into a ball as her body shook trying to fall asleep.
After another two days of going back and forth, she was finally too tired to move from her corner. She tried to sleep more and more, not wanting to be awake in a world where the only relationship she thought she could count on had already disintegrated.
Her dreams were lovely. Her Master was fucking her raw, making her scream and moan. Hermione bit her lip as she squeezed her legs together to assuage the fire down there.
All that was left of her voice was a whisper, a whisper that unbeknownst to her would reverberate through Draco’s head forever.
“Please, Master. I need you…”

So? So? What did you think?! Leave me your theories and thoughts in the review section and don't forget to rate my little story!!
Much love,
Mnemosyne
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To Kill A Swan