Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 34
- 35
- 36
A/N : Even if you do not have a Forum account, you can read my reviews’ answers on this link. http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/46726-plenitude/

Dear Readers, a warning, this chapter contains graphic sexual content. :D

I tried to write Hermione’s 1^st time, as realistically as possible. Thus, hers is not 5 minutes pain, then a whole night of orgasms. If you have further interest, see the endnote.

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

Please Read Review and Rate? Enjoy :]

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

‘Flashbacks’

Chapter 35 : Master’s Treasure.

Hermione landed on wobbly feet with a “humpf” expelled with a gasp. Still somewhat woozy, her hands seeking anything to latch onto and steady herself, she was unaware that Lord Voldemort still held her tight to his body.

Opening her eyes slowly, the vertigo and nausea were receding fast. Her dizziness stopped totally when the strong and sinewy arms of the Dark Lord tightened their embrace around her. His soothing murmurs fanned the soft skin around her ear, gooseflesh spread from her head to her toes in a matter of seconds. She shut her eyelids again, to absorb and bask in his body heat.

His hushed words ignited small fires through her quaking body, and she knew her still shivering form was not because of the side-along apparition. His proximity was doing a number on her, as always, sparking tiny infernos, nothing new there. Admittedly, she was utterly receptive to his closeness!

Darn! Who is she kidding? She was receptive to everything about him, to anything that made him who he is, even mundane contact opened floodgates of devastating wanton imaginings. From the start, he had the same irresistible effect on her! It was she who negated and denied this gravitational pull he exerted on her, by merely being. He was a star, a giant sun, and like a dwarf planet, she orbited around him, came alive with flourishing desires and thriving needs.

Perhaps, the only novelty in this unavoidable attraction she subconsciously sensed, is the swiftness with which he was breaching her fortifications, making her walls crumble down, like wet cookies. In one week, he conditioned her to respond and react. Though giving her all the latitude to resist his advances, if she could. And she couldn’t, not anymore, and truthfully, from the beginning. Every passing day, since she awoke from her induced coma, was a discovery of her herself, her nature, her darkest and deepest secrets, an enticement to surrender, a bait to enjoy. She was spellbound, no pun intended!

Her frustrated carnal desires, ever since lunch, were still lurking in her body, but more so in her head, swirling indecent ideas, spinning shameless thoughts, waiting like a ticking bomb ready to explode into total abandon.

She rested her forehead on his muscular chest, feeling his calm and cadenced respiration, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart, steady, strong, and hypnotizing.

“Breathe pet, don’t worry… I’ve got you.”

His hands were busy, the left entangled in her dark chocolate mane, massaging her scalp, with his fingertips, pressurizing different points and spots on her skull like a professional shiatsu expert, while the other hand was stroking the length of her spine, up and down, in a soothing and calming movements.

She kept her eyes closed, her hands wrapped around his fit and sturdy waist, listening to his sinful voice, absorbing the vibrations through their connected chests, and letting the undulations lull her mind into an aphrodisiacal haze, though the effect was ten times more potent on her aflame body.

Trying to get her bearings, and center herself into some modicum of control, breathing deeply, she instinctively followed his respiration’s tempo, like she did when he made Dumbledore’s Subsisto Cruor “healing” spell disintegrate entirely.

When her brain jump-started back into some semblance of function, her amygdala sparked to life as well. She recapitulated the events of the day, and her annoyance grew with her lust by the minute. Could she become more paradoxical? She wanted to kick him, scream and yell at him, and at the same time she did not want him to let go of her.

This contradiction added to her flaring temper. She knew she was being unreasonable and it was not his fault if she couldn’t decide what she really wanted. She was slipping into a vicious circle where her frustrations fueled her needs for him, and those foreign wishes to be totally his, in turn, increased her aggravation about her weakness.

She was really exasperated with him, apparating with her like this without warning! She was irritated with herself for being jealous of that vulgar and obtuse waitress! She was mostly irked with him, exciting and arousing her in front of all of his “court”, Lord I-do-what-I-want Voldemort, then leaving her hanging like that, in pain, on edge, unable to reach orgasm without him, to afterward flirt unabashedly with that tastelessly dressed bint, in her face! And for Merlin’s sake! Why is she so angry because of that dully cheap waitress?!

‘Hmm, my best guess is …because you are jealous?’ her doppelganger’s snide remark rang in her mind, with the annoying subconscious image of her know-it-all self clad in the same waitress’ outfit, with of course the plunging décolletage! Sitting on the canary yellow velvet upholstered chair, the one and the same the Dark Lord occupied in that ‘Haunt Of Happy Couples’ monstrosity!

‘Argh…yes, well I am jealous, so what?’

‘Tsk Tsk…Never pegged you for a defeatist loser!’

‘I am not a defeatist!’

Her subconscious stood up, then moved around a representation of Lord Voldemort, mimicking the waitress’ “seductive” antics, then retorted, dryly,

‘Are you going to man up and fulfill your dreams, despite your insecurities and constant ability to place yourself in embarrassing scenarios? i.e. do something about your sexual frustration ?’ The irritating voice of truth in her mind, bending down flaunted her breasts unashamedly, turning her back to the jealous Gryffindor.

Damn it all to Hades and back! All of this anger was stemming from sexual frustration and jealousy! She knew it, her subconscious knew it, and above all, he knew it!

She saw every single witch ready to dissolve into boneless heap, and prostrate herself at his feet! Her friends in the 3^rd floor were creating a fan club for Godric’s sake! And all those Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop females, hyenas rather, feasting their eyes on him, and if given half the chance, they’d maul him! And don’t get her started on that ridiculous almost naked bint and her “floppy mammalian assets’!

All right, truth is a bitch and its bite hurts! She is jealous, she did not get a release, and he was now holding her to his wickedly gorgeous body, adding to her tension, and desire, and lust and …he was forcing her to admit what she wanted, what she needed, by his simple nearness!

His question came back to the frontal lobe of her reasoning and reasonable brain, with a vengeance, kicking her into waking up and smelling the roses, or rather smelling the sandalwood and citrus scent of his virility, and that musky maleness oozing from his pores, as if asking her, in turn, ‘Are you sure you don’t need anything else pretty slave?’

Right now she isn’t sure of anything but her frustration. No! Scratch that! She is sure of one thing, she wanted him right here, right now, not caring about the consequences, what it does entail to succumb to him, she will cross that bridge once she get there, to hell with everything else.

For days now, he was building up her tension, sexual and otherwise. He met her intellectual cravings and then some! He unhurriedly answered her questions about the war, through others, turning the events into a saga! Nevertheless, he made sure she experienced pleasure! His brand of pleasure! Infrequently though, baiting her to crave more. Each and every one of her sexual awakenings was interwoven with pain, a pain she found, heightened her enjoyment in ways she had never thought possible, whether through punishment or reward.

And then more often than not, he would completely ignore her needs, relegate this aspect of their daily interactions to the bottom of his to-do list; go about his day schedule and planning, adopting a platonic and “all business” attitude. If his behavior won’t give anyone a whiplash, she’d walk naked in Hogwarts!

For days, he was playing the cliché cat-and-mouse game, her being the helpless mouse, obviously. How presumptuous was she to think she could resist him? He who has years under his belt of convoluted and perverted tricks, subtle and bold charm! Astarte’s tits! He enjoys the chase, relishes the hunt! For him, that’s probably the most entertaining part, given the fact that he is always the hunter, the predator and never the prey!

What was she thinking? Or was she thinking at all! Duh! Who could think while he’s flaunting such innate sex appeal, so naturally? Not a single woman-or some men for that matter- so Bite her!

He led her exactly to where he wanted her. What a naïve, unsophisticated witch she is to even attempt matching his game! Or assume she could exceed his expertise, his decades of knowledge and proficient savoir-faire! Godric’s sword! He was the embodiment of all that is power, control, dominance and most of all, being always the victor. He was the epitome of a conqueror, who takes no prisoners, except … her!

Still, her stubborn nature wouldn’t let her abdicate without a fight! What was that adage “Pride comes always before a fall” Merlin’s hairy balls! Could she have been more in denial?! When Lord I-am-irresistible Voldemort smiles at her, her heart either skips a beat or accelerates to break the sound barrier! When he whispers in her ear, or caresses her, or punishes her swiftly and harshly with that dirty, wicked, sexy, dominance he exudes like sweat from pores, she becomes his willing submissive.

And while she’s at it, why not dissect when he has magical intercourse with her, intercourse?! Cough and scoff the “missionary” position! He screwed and banged her, in the most depraved, implicit exhibitionism fest! Yes, time to come clean. Or dirty!

She looked at him, through her lashes, feasting on his overwhelming presence, and more than tantalizing body. Oh, that absolutely wickedly ideal form! That brutally virile physique! That kind of sinful body should be illegal! No one should be allowed to traipse as a constant and ambulant hazard to starved virgin witches! Some could be sued for rape attempt damn it!

Such a gorgeous, muscular, appealing body! Like an Olympic gold medallist swimmer, his physical attributes perfecting a chiseled silhouette. All sinewy and strong. No over puffy and unnatural muscles. He was a duplication of a Greek carving coming alive.

Moving unsteadily, she at last realized they were in his bedroom. Ungracefully, she let herself flop down on the nearest couch.

Scowling she looked him square in the eyes “I would have appreciated a warning Sir, before apparating us so suddenly!”

Chortling he arched his hairless eyebrow at her, a lopsided grin started to etch on his lips, eyes darkening to their crimson red intensity, he drawled amused “ Still woozy pet?”

A glass of cold water materialized before her eyes in his hand, “Drink pet, it will settle your stomach.”

With a nod of her head she thanked him, took the glass to sip from it slowly, looking at him, taking his two-button black cashmere blazer off, and throwing it on the armchair nearest to her. He continued by unbuttoning the sleeves and front of his pastel blue button-down shirt. Shrugging it off, it went the same way as his blazer. He sat facing her and took off the new pair of black Dragonhide boots and socks.

He was going about this whole undressing act so naturally, and in a so down-to-earth manner, as if he was absolutely alone, and she was not there. He was taking off his clothes like he’d done it hundreds of times while in her presence. It was beguiling how secure and relaxed in his skin he felt. It was not an impression! The simplicity and intrinsic ease he radiated in his nakedness was as exhilarating as his physical perfection.

He was not showing off, or performing a seductive number for her, he was simply and with minimal effort taking off his clothes. Not only unfazed to be seen in his birthday suit, but as confident as a man clad in the most expensive suit! His own flesh was an intimate matter of simplicity! He respected his nudity, like he did his own mind, and he had no qualms in sharing it with her.

Hermione was drinking him with her eyes, with every sip of water she swallowed. It was to no avail, her throat was parched and dry seeing him stripping, uncovering his gorgeous masculinity. His virile shape all in angles, sinew and muscles. A chiseled manhood of serene confidence, proud command, and superior control.

He stood looking at her, his eyes glowing like red laser beams, unbuckling his Deerskin black leather belt, and sliding it from his dark gray slim-fit corduroys’ belt loops. A smirk edged his lips, and reflected in his eyes, his amused features reminding her of the last time she saw him handle that specific accessory, for what purpose, and what occurred after.

Standing tall before her, his splendid physique towering over her petite and tiny sitting shape, a grin of the wicked variety tilted his lips up. She was squirming, she was cornered, and she was his. He told her all of this with one fiendish leer. He told her that her face was flushing redder than her dress, because his eyes were now the color of blood with not a single speck of gold, his dilated pupils an elongated elliptical, and bottomless black abyss.

The heat was enveloping her, or was it radiating off her? Forget how hot she felt, she couldn’t differentiate, nor fathom if it was because of his spontaneous strip tease or her already overheated and eager body, or a combination of both. The latter most probably!

What she was sure of is that he was reminding her of her last punishment in the playroom or dungeon or whatever he likes to call it!

No matter, her body’s reactions, receptiveness and eagerness were more than evident, to both of them. What with the tiny shivers propagating through her skin, all bumpy with gooseflesh? Her heartbeat was accelerating to a thundering tattoo! It must be her adrenal glands over dosing her blood with adrenaline once too many! Her respiration on the other hand was not in the best of shape! Diaphragm and lungs started playing the Tug o' war game yet again, but to no “breathing” result. Thank all deities for her sitting earlier, because her legs were as solid as flobberworms!

Hands still holding the glass of water, so tightly, her fingers were almost numb. She was aware her eyes weren’t blinking. The last item covering his hips as well as his long, sturdy, and solid legs entranced her. She was gawking, unashamedly, too fascinated. Her focal point was engrossed with the swollen and distended huge mass, at the junction of the inner part of his thighs. Her junction of the thighs was under the monsoon season all over again! How many monsoon seasons one gets in few days? Talk about global warming!

Wetting her lips, then swallowing the excess of saliva that flooded her mouth, she felt his orbs following the movement of her throat and esophagus gulping down. His hand took the useless glass from her cramping fingers, vanished it to the small breakfast table, and with both hands imprisoned her to the back of the seat, with his hands resting on its top.

Another déjà-vu that he interrupted by his “ Accio wand” followed by “Diffindo”, a moment later, her dress fell to pieces, leaving behind a very naked, aroused and almost succumbing Gryffindor witch. The dress set in tatters around and under her, on the couch. She was in her birthday suit for the nth time, with nothing to secure her from the bestial appetite and animalistic hunger that raged in his fiery eyes.

“Do you know what is going to happen pet? I am going to claim you totally as mine…I am going to be your first…last …and only ” he purred, his deep mesmerizing low undertone vibrated and disturbed the air particles, which set out tickling the tiny hairs behind her ear. While he kept nuzzling her neck, exhaling his warm and moist breath along her overheating flesh. Licking the outer cartilage of her ear, wandering down, he nibbled on her earlobe, captured between his pearly whites; and pulled it slowly, until it slipped free from his grazing teeth.

The shivers that rippled through her whole being, and found lodgings in her vagina, did not go unnoticed by the Dark Lord, he chuckled while pushing his face into the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. He continued weaving his delightfully lewd imagery, and naughtily arousing depravity, with whispered indecent yet so enticing descriptions.

“I am going to make you mine forever. Claim you with my cock. I am going to make you feel every single inch of me… all 9.5 inches of cock shoved balls deep inside your pink tight pussy …. Possessing you…. Inch after inch… to make you feel. … slowly… your first time and enjoy it so much you will ask for more.”

In between all of the licking, nuzzling and nibbling he continued whispering his dirty and depraved imagery in her lust-addled brain, destroying with his expressions her last barricades. His tongue poked her ear, with an avalanche of diabolically ravenous lust, a salvo of blatant, rapacious and greedy indulgence. Mimicking exactly what he intended to do, his muscled, pointy, and wet appendage repeated the in and out movements, the thrusts he intended to replicate somewhere else in her body, with another far bigger appendage of his.

Hermione was melting, like butter, like snow, like ice cream, like wax, her whole being drowning in his infernal heat, his dissolute purrs and licentious shamelessness. His sun was engulfing her, and she was not a cold rock, tumbling and drifting in that empty, and freezing space anymore. She willed her closed eyelids to open; she succeeded to lift them up to half-mast, and the sight of the splendid wizard framed with the last rays of a setting sun hit her retinas. Oranges, pinks and reds, with purple hues swirled around his bare upper torso, and she ached to touch him.

Her hands of their own accord moved up to his chest, gliding on the sheen of sweat that buffed his epidermis into silky smooth sensual delight.

“Yesss… sweet pet… touch me…do you know what your hands do to me?”

His whispers slithered along her collarbone, his hands followed to her shoulders, while her fingers, feathery and light, with fingertips barely touching his exacerbated flesh, trailed from muscled pectorals, to rigid sternum, sliding to ribs and up to his virile small nipples, circulating his manly areolas, and earning a breathless groan from the superb masculine taut neck, the vibrato echoing through his chest, and tingling her fingers for more.

“Yes pet, caress me, your fingers are like fire on my skin…you make me so hard for you witch…painfully hard…you want to feel how much my cock is aching for you??”

He covered her right hand and guided it down to his still covered erect penis, making her cup his groin, and then murmured almost gasping for air ”Undress me.”

Hesitating to relinquish her hold on this part of his anatomy, she finally reached with both hands and unbuttoned his trousers, made quick work of the zip and let gravity do the rest, after pulling it down, to be faced with his black briefs. With a huff of impatience she quickly disposed of the offending piece of cloth, and reflexively licked her lips. She was drooling, just like his swollen, purplish and erect, almost ten inches of flesh was oozing his preseminal fluid. It was a display of beauty, a chef d'œuvre, a masterpiece of male anatomy.

She licked her lips again; eyes pinned on the rigid, thick rod, and heard him say, like from outer space,

“It is all yours baby…. just tell Master what you want…Want to feel me filling your wet, hot and tight virgin cunt?? Fucking you deep … slow… hard… stretching you to my size…. to fit around my cock, …only me, …all fucking mine …my …pretty pet… Mine…you are mine.”

Amongst his vividly graphic and explicitly suggestive depictions of her first time, his fornicating terms wreaked havoc on her already submitting resistance. She became aware of her supine position on his colossal bed, when the pile of gooey gray-matter which she finally recognized as her brain, was all of a sudden assaulted with divine sensations when she felt his teeth grazing lightly her left nipple, suckling it between his lips, his tongue swerving and swirling around her blood engorged, deep pink areola.

She didn’t know how or when he moved her to his bed, they were at the end side, with her legs still dangling from the knees, on the edge of the mattress, while he was leaning over her, and imprisoning her legs between his, his right hand’s fingers, nimble and unrelenting, administering flicks, and painful pinches, twists and pulls on her right breast nipple.

The prickling and itching in her left tit, generated by his mouth, lecherously soft and lasciviously gentle, collided with the excruciating ache from her right nipple, under his torturing fingers. Both conflicting sensations shooting southward, spasmodic stimulating shocks flashing at every touch, pinch, nibble, squeeze, twist, lick, nip, and brush.

Uninterrupted stimuli hammered her unhooded swollen clitoris. The flock of wired nerves at the apex of her vulva felt like a pincushion, a porcupine mattress! It was pulsating as if with a heart of its own; or was it electrocuted repeatedly?

The contrasting and clashing sensory feedback her brain was overloaded with, exploded through her whole being, in a repetitive shudders, nerves raw, nipples and clitoris engorged, turgid, stiff and sore, but still wanting more. She was whimpering and moaning, though her ears were deaf to anything but her stampeding heartbeat.

Fluid flames replaced the surging blood in her veins; her inflamed epidermis coated with a transpiration patina, translucent and sleek. The muscled walls of her sheath’s deepest recess were clutching and fluttering preparing her for his invasion. Her clitoris was now throbbing with the barest touch or lick or twist to her thoroughly fondled breasts.

After suckling, grazing, fondling, and stroking manually and orally, he switched between mouth and hand, on her now oversensitive breasts. Licking his way up to her ear again he drawled with a silky and devastating deep, silky purr, “Do you want to feel Master’s cock inside you?   Fucking you? Tell me…what does my pretty pet want?”

His debauchery was delivered with murmurs, nips and grazes on her already marked skin, tiny traces of teeth, purplish spots, after a long suction in that curve of neck or the slope of a breast. Hickies littered her satin skin, similar to that lustful delight cluttering the dark, wanton and twisted part of her brain.

He interlaced the sensuously intense pleasures, with painful bites of possessive intensity, his mutterings interrupted, time and again, when his busy lips and tongue, teeth and mouth worked her desires to a maddening edge, gliding down to her abdomen, dipping a pointy moist tongue into her navel.

“Do you want me to fuck you my gorgeous pet? …Do you want to feel me inside you…? Tell me…”

His right hand left her breast to slowly go wandering around after his tongue to her abdomen, feathery contact, and barely strokes, a sculpting fondle on the hips, a carving rub on her waste, his fingertips caressed, twisting Ls and Vs shaped routes on her velvety damp skin, opening a slippery path betwixt her thighs.

Reflexively, Hermione’s legs pulled together, trying to block his probing fingers, but relentless, they glided to stroke her pubic area. Inserting his middle finger to snoop around her blood-bloated vulva, his other fingers followed, their passage already slippery and slick with her natural lubricants.

“ So wet for me…so wanting and needing release…sweet slave? Ask Master little one…. I shall give it all to you…you want to cum? What do you want? You want Master to fuck you and make you cum on his cock? You want to milk

and suck Master’s cock with your pussy lips, my precious slave?”

His rumbling deep debauched and fornicating whispers were more potent than anything pornographic, she could have read or seen. She could have sworn her insides were already mashed to pulpy mass, and trickling out from her vaginal orifice. Was she breathing? She really couldn’t be sure! The impression of inebriety though, was more than intoxicating. Like drunk on their combined pheromones, she was ready to plunge from the razor edge she was barely balancing on, to crash into the abyss of ecstasy.

Her brain and nervous system bloated and swamped with his tactile and intolerably pleasurable torture! She arched her back, hips and pelvis jutting up, an impatient gasp leaving her throat.

Two hands suddenly tilted her head up, when ten fingers intertwined with her wild ringlets, pulling almost painfully. Without giving her time to react, his mouth crashed upon her lips, pushed his way through, and ravished her oral cavity. Tongue taking over previously conquered and marked territory, gliding over her teeth, probing the roof of her mouth, then coiling around her own tongue, drawing it out and into his mouth. He sucked on her appendage, pushed it back in with his, and with a last lick to her swollen and bruised lips.

He spoke softly looking into her eyes, hands still holding her head, “Do you want to belong to me forever? Because when you say yes my sweet pet, you will belong to Master forever!”

‘Beautiful, gorgeous and all his! The sweet submissive witch, his witch!’

She wanted nothing more than to feel him all around her, inside her, kissing her, consuming her. She was burning, and she was a caress away from a Voldemort patented orgasm. She wanted him. Everything about him just struck her as magnificent, incomparable, addictive, and he wanted her to be his forever. She wanted to be his forever!

“Yes …please…” Hermione’s voice was unrecognizable, not to her own ears. She was gasping, and whimpering and needing him to possess her already.

“Yes…please…what lovely witch?” His finger was drawing circles around her clitoris, but never touching it directly, sliding easily down between her labia minora, circling her drenched opening, and spreading her vaginal fluids all around. His Tongue tasting her syrupy nectar time and again, savoring each lick, to finally dip directly in her honey pot. Her natural lubricants were now flooding her inner thighs, dribbling into the cleft between her buttocks, and she was pushing up to meet his teasing strokes and licks. His tongue wiggling around her ready to burst clitoris, but never relieving her from her painful hunger for release.

He pulled up, and kissed her mouth hard and deep, she tasted her tangy and sweet flavor on his tongue, before he uttered in his deep resonating velvety tone “I am going to make you beg for my cock to fuck you….” Devilishly smiling, he kissed her mouth forcefully almost bruisingly, before going the same southward path again, relentlessly.

She was in an agonizing state of arousal, breathless, writhing beneath him, whimpering, her moans, unintelligible pleas told him she was close to shatter and surrender totally. His smile grew wickedly voracious, his eyes glowing, in the dim light. Going down her belly, he gently pushed her thighs open, nibbling his way to her aching center, licking in the inner soft skin of her thighs.

Feeling his breath on her sex, again betraying her maddening arousal, bucking her hips, trying to pull up to his mouth. Her body reacting to his strokes, hips bucking, her spine curved, convexed, and made the firm breasts jut out, round globes of feverish desire, the nipples on top, dark pink, akin to two lighthouses in a sea of flesh.

“See how wonderfully responsive you are my sweet? My pet needs to ask for what she wants… I want to hear you say it … Do you want me to continue? Or stop?” His question followed by a long lick on her clit.

“Oh Godric! Yes…”

“ No Godric pet…you belong to me now, you are mine…say it”

He asked, and licked, repeating the question and the movement, but prolonging more and more the time in between, delaying his licking and caresses, making her go wild for him.

Finally stopping his arousing caresses, torturing her, craving his tongue on her clitoris, or his shaft inside her clinching vagina, she heard him whispering in her ear, his warm breath teasing,

“I am …yours…Please…”

“You belong to who?”

“ …Sir …Please….”

“What? …Who am I pet?”

“Master …”

“Good girl…my sweet …precious witch…yesss. Mine! ”

“I …Please…f..uck…me… Master …please …. ahh …””

Defeated, on the verge of weeping, of crying out her agony, she felt his penis, hot, heavy, swollen with blood, thick and hard, nestle in between her labium.

He started grinding his shaft on her vulva, masturbating her clit with the glans of his penis with every up and down movement sending jolts of pleasure, her clitoris raw nerves transferring the stimuli through her whole wired body, making her moan, and squirm with every pass.

He moved his member, up and down, at a constant leisurely speed. The skin of his shaft felt heavenly silky, slippery and wet by their combined juices, on her scorching sex. Then he took his phallus in his hand at the base, and slapped softly her clitoris with its head, to again slide on her stiff red clit. Thus he repeated the maneuver, slapping and then slipping smoothly, to glide again, switching and varying the speed or the time, again and again, until her orgasm was about to explode with her moans, but he stopped when he felt her on the verge of orgasming, and ordered in a stern voice “You will not cum until I give you permission, pet.”

She felt herself being moved to the center of the bed; a thick pillow then was positioned beneath small of her back and lifting up her posterior and pelvis. He held her legs under her knees, bending them up and to her sides, almost folding her in two, spread wide, as much as her flexibility allowed her. Propped up in this position, her vagina entrance aligned with his penis, without strain on her lower back, and allowed for her to experience easier, less painful and more comfortable penetration,

She felt the glans of his penis touch her wet entrance, and then the slow push that enabled the mushroom like head to slip easily inside, due to all of their combined lubricating fluids.

“I will try not hurt you …much…” his chuckle sounded almost demonic in her ears, but she did not care, her temperature was about to make her own lubricants evaporate. She wanted her release and needed him to relieve her from this painful strain clamping and gnawing at her insides.

The tip of his wand touched her oozing sex, and through her aphrodisiacal lustful haze she heard him cast some spell in parseltongue. The hissing and sibilant tones, mixing with high and low cadences, the spell uttered with his rich baritone sounded as the epitome of sexy in her passion-clouded brain.

The Dark Lord after casting the spell to collect her maidenhead blood directly siphoned in vial, let his wand drop and concentrated on his witch, his thrumming heart, echoing with every throb in his penis. Slowly he pushed into her soaked pussy, relishing the feel of her slippery silky walls, hot and slick and so tight, it felt like her pussy lips were sucking him in. A shiver ran down his spine, Salazar’s cock! She felt like heaven!

Burning pain! Godric effing balls, it was beyond any description! She knew there would be pain, and she was not really concerned about it, until now! Though her state of high arousal insured enough lubricants to fill the Black Lake, it still fucking hurts!!

His penis felt like a Quidditch Bludger Bat was being squeezed into her and tearing her muscles apart. Forget that he was taking it slow, and thrusting or rather inching his way in, at a snail pace! Barely pushing one inch in then pulling half an inch out, one inch in, half an inch out! She still had the whole 9.5 inches to go, to endure, to sheath, and that without counting his girth that was simultaneously stuffing and splitting her in two! Merlin! Poor stuffed turkeys, she can share and relate with their plight!

Freaking Salazar Slytherin’s heir, her already distended vagina felt like battered while being crammed with a monster penis! Freaking holy mother of all penises! Her vaginal walls were made of muscles not steel! And muscles get stiff and strained when used; those muscles he was stretching inside her weren’t used, at all! They feel already fucking bruised, and he hasn’t touched her hymen yet!

“Fuck ….baby…you are so tight…hot…wet…” His deep voice, resonating in her ears, made her shiver, lose concentration of what was happening down in her suffering vagina, she wanted him out, and in at the same time! She wanted him to move faster and not move at all. She was whimpering from pleasurable and new feelings inside her, and at the same time moaning from the sporadic licks of pain.

Her ache-addled mind was ranting and raving! Where are those dim-witted romance writers who said the pain disappears after a couple of minutes or thrusts?? She wanted to cruciate them so bad that even Bellatrix Lestrange couldn’t compete! What kind of Blast-Ended Skrewt shit they wrote about, describing the first time! Where are those feelings and sensations depicted in those romantic stories, where the virgin heroine is taken by the hero, and she is ecstatic and ready to orgasm after his 5^th thrust??! TROLLSHIT!

Either those “authoresses” weren’t there at all, maybe unconscious because of the pain, most probably! Or, they suffer from congenital analgesia so they cannot feel, and has never felt physical pain in their “romantic” life! Or, they are trying to relive their deflowering painful event, by embellishing it, to experience anew, and vicariously what they wanted to feel, painting the whole damn “big bang” under a totally different feel. What a disservice to the masses really! Especially to those inexperienced, fumbling about, men and women!

Thank you Merlin for his slow and gentle handling! Had he thrust fully into her, in one go, he might have ripped her walls and injured her to the extent of requiring medical attention.

She was crying, her tears slipping down her cheeks, and he felt her squirm underneath him, he let go of her right leg, he nuzzled her neck, and licked her tears, kissed her lips tenderly, and delicately started rubbing her clitoris, whispering soothing words to her “ Shush …pretty pet…I know it hurts…but I will make it good for you sweetheart…I am going to make you feel good…so good you will be asking for more…precious…”

No, it is not the kind of pain she likes, damn you Eros to hell! Erotic pain her burning snatch! No, it still hurts after five minutes, though now it is mixed with the pleasure of his stroking her clitoris.

These are her living tissues being stretched, pulled, stuffed and widened. She felt her hymen being torn by his intruding penis. His intruding glans tore and removed the damn thin layer with controlled force. Her hymen is no more. Oh he prepared her all right, and while he’s being gentle, that was bearable! The fluttering in her inner muscles and the lubrication afforded him to fully enter her to the hilt, and she felt his testicles hitting her butts’ crack with that distinctive sound of flesh hitting flesh, somehow it was arousing to hear their skin touch, as much as sense it!

But the pain does not go away that fast, like they wrote, because the bruises are not healing in freaking five minutes! Not even with healing potions and Episkey spell! What does wound you, hurts you, and until what is hurting heals, you will feel the fucking pain.-yes pun intended!-

He pulled all of his hard length out of her, leaving the crown of his phallus in, then leisurely reentered her stretched opening, filling her completely with his girth and length, her silky sopping passage felt like a tight fit scabbard for his sword. His right hand’s thumb kept rubbing and stroking her clitoris relentlessly in unison with his rocking hips.

Hermione’s pleasure started to escalate, the tiny flares that were igniting now and then began to coalesce into a roaring inferno, pushing the pain to the back of her mind. The dull ache was there like a sore spot, but the bursts of pleasurable flames were spreading insidiously from her invaded channel to the last follicle of her hair.

In Her lower belly there was a coil winding and twisting on itself, like an elastic band stretched to its limit, it was reaching a breaking point. The tension was concentrated, so deep she couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, yet with every shove of his penis, massaging her fluttering womb, she spiraled higher on the helix of pleasure, the accompanying pressure was unlike anything she ever thought could feel this deep inside, completely and utterly filling, fulfilling, and still wanting more of it.

She reflexively clutched his hard flesh with her vaginal walls as his shaft rubbed her internal dampened channel. His rocking hips, gaining speed and cadence were stirring vibrations in her burning core, barely tolerable in their exquisite intensity.

He let go of her other leg, and made her wrap both around him, while still stroking her clitoris, he took her left breast nipple in his mouth, suckling it, flicking his tongue on the turgid nub. His body altering move changed his penetration angle, and he felt her walls clamping down on him, in successive spasmodic flutters, a sure sign she was nearing her climax, it felt like a tight fist milking him for all his worth.

“Fuck yes… That's my good girl, milk me baby…your pussy is so fucking tight…fuck me ….baby …yes pet …cum for your Master …cum on my cock pretty girl”

She felt her hips moving up to meet his thrust in, following his rhythm, while her brain was shutting down, her body was not laying on the bed anymore, she was floating, she was burning, she was electrocuted with every plunge and shove of his oiled shaft, stabbing the anterior wall of her vagina, between the opening and the cervix, exactly where her G-spot was.

The lower part of the raised ridge, framing his glans, at the start of his shaft hit the mark with every to and fro movement. Oh thank you very much Dr. Grafenberg for the discovery!

He stroked and tickled the best find of the anatomical history ever! Women should erect a statue for this Grafenberg person, sweet mother of Merlin! With every shove in and pull out, Hermione was ready to burst, her “ More…Master …please…faster…” Were answered with “Yes …baby…move with me… feel my shaft inside you…claiming you…cum for me beautiful…cum hard on my cock…I want you to squirt pet… ejaculate for Master …”

Are mythic heights of delight… mythic? Those heights are part of Paradise or lead to it? Paradise is after or before Nirvana?

Does screeching and shrieking count as erotic and enticing as moaning, whimpering, sighing and gasping?

Heaven! She was doing all of this already! Merlin…Godric… Lord… Voldemort… He was excavating her last fried neuron from her brain, through her dissolved sex, shoveling out every damn clutching contractions, his penis almost hitting her throat, her sore throat, since she screamed her vocal cords raw.

“Master….Arghhhh…”

“Yesss…baby…Scream for me …Scream for Master”

The tremors weren’t stopping, and still she did not see those lights and colors they talked about, because she couldn’t see at all, or hear, or smell, or touch! She was dead to the world; experiencing with him for the second time “la petite mort”, the little death, she wanted to stay in this kind of death, knowing she headed to heaven.

Her body was purely one single wired nerve, locked between the positive and negative poles of an electrical discharge, the nerve starting in her sex and ending in her brain, flickering multiple times her orgasm bulb. Her vaginal contractions were munching his phallus like a lollipop, the immense heights of ecstatic pleasure resulted in her release, and ejaculating fluid.

”Fuck yesss… pet ….squirt … soak me…. Arghhh I am cum..ming ….Arghhh fuck…Hermione…”

He entered her, buried to his balls inside her, wanting to feel her G-orgasm working him like a clenching grasp, like a sucking mouth, he relinquished his control and ejaculated deep inside her sore vagina, her squirted fluids covered his thighs and abdomen. His satisfied wide smile adorned his sweaty face, slowly he let himself slide out of her, to lie next to her, then scooped her to his chest, wrapping her tired and sleek body in his arms. Their breathing was coming out in gasps and pants, huffs and winded inhales.

Hermione kept her eyes close, too tired to open them, she felt him spooning her to him, and a peaceful sensation enveloped her in a warm cocoon. She was happy, blissful, safe, and loved. She was feeling whole in his arms, she was his, and he was her Master. Her smile was beaming through her closed lids, her lips red, swollen and content.

Lord Voldemort kissed her temple, seeing her gratified grin. He reciprocated though her eyes were closed, and from her regular and deep respiration, she was already slipping into her dream world. A look at the skillfully crystal cut vial on the bedside table to his left widened his grin. Blood! Red, potent, and as pure as a virgin’s hymen.

“Sleep my Hermione, slumber my pretty one, Master is here, I love you my treasure…”

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The first time (for both partners) should not be only about breaching the hymen, and everything would go bang from there. It is about preparing the vaginal muscles to receive the penis.

Those who visit the gym regularly know that warming up and stretching, before a workout, prepare the muscles for exercise, and save them many mishaps. Soreness and dull pain (after a workout) results from microscopic tears in muscle fibers caused by intense activity they’re not used to performing. Post-workout pain is known as Exercise Induced Muscle Damage (EIMD). The vaginal muscles work the same. Arousal and sufficient lubrication guarantee tolerable soreness and orgasm. Otherwise, injury will occur, since those muscles are forced to extend unnaturally, and unprepared, and the penis will hit the cervix, which amounts to painful experience, whether the muse likes it or not.

And no, a man cannot bang, slam and pound into a newly deflowered woman. The body just needs time to recover. When torn microscopic fibers rebuild, usually it takes 2 to 4 days.

I wrote about this based on my experience and research, others may have had a different experience, I cannot write about it while disregarding the physical and medical realities! Does a bruise heal in 5 minutes? If there’s a lesion (hymen) then there’s pain. Fiction or not, in sex scenes, biology and anatomy are the guidelines. (Even with magic :P)

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