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The Forbidden Ship	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18410 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 31
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- 33
Tags: Non con BDSM scene, Spanking, Bondage, Age Gap, Professor-student "relationship", Minor (late teens), Detention, HET.
xxx
Prompt: Failure

Sometimes, Hermione wondered why she didn't just report Professor Riddle for the degrading and humiliating ways he served out detention. She dangled over his knee, her arms tightly bound from elbows to wrists behind her back, her skirt pushed up, her naked arse full on display, her legs spread wide with the tip of her shoes stuck to the floor. He had her right where he seemed to enjoy her, helpless and at his mercy. This time, he seemed to favour his hand.

Smack.

"Fourteen!" she called out in a painfilled yelp.

She’d never made the mistake of disobeying him again after that one time when he'd stripped her naked, forced her into a too tiny crate and kept her there for the whole night and day—disillusioned—while he taught his classes with that ever so knowing small smile on his face, especially after she'd soiled herself. She'd been utterly terrified of being exposed. Ever since then she'd followed his commands to a T.

Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Why hadn't she been faster in solving that Arithmancy equation at the start?

"Fifteen."

Fuck! That hurt. She really, really should report him.

"Sixteen."

She just did not want to.

"Seventeen."

She wanted to beat him at his own game.

"Eighteen."

She wanted him humiliated at her feet.

"Nineteen."

She didn't want others to witness her defeat.

"Twenty."

Her arse throbbed terribly, and she had a double period of Ancient Runes first thing in the morning, which was always solely theory.

Which he knew!

She wasn't going to be able to sit through that lesson without thinking of him the entire time.

Asshole.

"Twenty-one."

What time was it? She still had a Potions essay to double-check, and Professor Snape would be more than happy to withdraw a point (or two) for any tiny, little spelling or grammar error. Oh, and she had to practise for next week's Transfiguration assignment; it was an intricate spell and—

"Twenty-two," she said with a small sob.

She couldn't fail all her classes!

Ron was likely going to need some help, too. And she hadn't yet—

SMACK!

She screamed properly now. Her body jolted in his lap, her hair brushing the floor as tears filled her eyes.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

She wasn't going to cry.

Not in front of Him.

She pushed the tears and emotions back inside with all the strength she could muster, and in between ragged breaths, she counted,

"Twenty-three."

She clenched her jaw, waiting and waiting, her whole body rigid and tense in expectation. When, instead of administering another searing slap, his fingers stroked softly over her reddened arse, dulling that heat with a cold brush of magic, she relaxed and leaned into his touch. His magic, his touch, felt so nice. So soothing. If she'd been a cat, she likely would've purred about now.

Upon realising what she was thinking,her previous relaxation flew out the window, and his immediate retaliation had her screaming her throat hoarse.

"Twenty-four!"

Her shoulders shook within the limited freedom of movement they'd been granted, and she could no longer hold it in. It hurt too much.

"That's it, Mudblood," he said, sporting a gentle tone. "Focus on your Master."

She sobbed, hauling up her nose, while he petted her softly, dulling the pain.

"Surrender, and you will be rewarded, Hermione.

She nodded her head in silent acquiesce, her face red, tears and snot dripping down her forehead. She hauled up her nose again.

"Please, Master," she whispered.

His long, nimble fingers slipped between her folds. When his magic brushed over her clit, the immersiveness of the shock travelling through her body took her completely off guard. She came so hard that her world seemingly spun out of control. He kept her on the edge of that precipe, his fingers thrusting into her, her walls clenching around them, while his thumb worked her clit into a frenzy. Her skin seemed on fire, while simultaneously goosebumps erupted. Her toes curled in her shoes. Fire and ice rushed through her in abundance. Everything felt too much, too tight, too restrictive, too hot, too cold, too much pain and too much pleasure. He electrified every synapse before pushing in more of his magic and overloading them. She couldn't come down from it.

He wouldn't allow her to come down from it.

Her heart raced, her breaths coming out in shallow gasps. It was too much.

"You can take it, Hermione."

Too, too much. So much pleasure, so much pain, she didn't know where the pendulum swung.

"You will take it."

But she couldn't. Her lips tingled, her mind a blur, her body searing as wave upon wave engulfed her. She needed it to end. She needed it to never end. All there was for her was what he allowed. He was her whole world. She would do whatever he wished.

"Good girl," reached her ears before his darkness whirled her away into oblivion.
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- 33
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The Forbidden Ship