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Plenitude	By : HeavyMist Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 60693 -:- 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
- 37
- 38
- 39
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/

I am sorry if the last chapter disappointed my readers, the lack of reviews makes me think it was substandard, hopefully you will find this one more to your liking.

There’s going to be another chapter and after an epilogue. The approaching end of this story already saddens me.

Thank you Sir-Forest for your priceless informative suggestions.

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

Please Read, Review & Rate? Enjoy :]

HM

PS. The mention of the “Towel”, in this chapter, is a wink to a couple of my wonderful reviewers, you know who you are :D

Felix Ligatio” Literally “Happy/lucky/fortunate - bondage, captivity, servitude”.

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

‘Flashbacks’

Chapter 38: The Playroom Games.

Hermione was waiting in the playroom, kneeling on a cushion near the door, all naked except from her platinum collar, that was given to her by her Master three months ago, after their bonding ceremony. The collar was bejeweled with small emeralds that formed the words “Property of Lord Voldemort”. It had D-rings to the left and right sides, as well as the front and back of her neck. She was to wear it at all times in the “dungeon”.

Kneeling came naturally to her now. Her back was straight, thighs shoulder width open, sitting on her heels, eyes on the floor, though she was required to keep her neck straight and head held up, hands to her sides. No slouching in her posture was accepted, she still remembers the spankings and floggings she was subjected to the first month, even the slightest droop was noticed, and her Master was more than happy to correct her.

She took this time to center herself, like he taught her to do. Go into a relaxing breathing exercise. But true to her nature, her mind just couldn’t stop working, thinking of her potions’ projects, especially the Lycanthropy remedy, and Neville’s as well. She finally learned that he was endeavoring to find a cure for his parents, and from the looks of it, hopefully it would be a success, she offered her help and he enthusiastically accepted.

Working with the Chief, she was not surprised to find it a very motivating and inspiring experience. His knowledge and skills were admirable, and his knack for perfectionism matched hers. They were a good team, though sometimes they were on each other’s throat, to the amusement of Luna and other staff members. Their potions’ related debates, arguments and even diatribes were becoming legendary in the PHACS.

Three months! Who would have thought she would end up married to the Supreme Leader, to Lord Voldemort! “Time flies when you’re having fun” they say, oh yes indeed it did! She was flourishing mind, body and soul. Her life seemed now like a fairy-tale. She was Hermione Riddle now, in the official records, the Dark Lady, Lady Voldemort! A smile stretched her plump lips, if only they knew what happens behind closed doors. Her grin grew wider.

Her friends were all over her after they came back from their honeymoon, which took them to an unplotable island somewhere in the tropics. They wanted to know everything, in minute details! She told them nothing of course; and insisted it is intimately private, but to quench their thirst, she told them he’s a wonderful talented kisser. Hermione almost laughed remembering their swooning and gushing about how lucky she is.

Yes she is one lucky witch indeed. Gods! She still can’t believe she is married to him! To her Lord and Master, and everyday, she falls more deeply in love with him. He was part of her as much as she was part of him, and he made sure to tell the world about it, when he married her. However he vowed his eternal fidelity, love and safety, during, his that private small ceremony, with only four witnesses. In his eyes this was even more important than their marriage. It was their Magical Core Bonding Ceremony.

He had explained to her beforehand that both were required to drink a potion, the “Felix Ligatio” which if translated literally from Latin it means “Happy/lucky/fortunate - bondage, captivity, servitude”. He explained how he siphoned her maidenhead blood into a vial, and also added the same quantity from his everlasting blood, insuring her protection, since he is immortal.

The Naga Snake-Goddess by biting him had infused his blood with its specific magical poison, the most potent immortality ingredient. Thus by ingesting it, she won’t be growing old at the normal rate, if at all. She won’t be subject to illnesses and diseases won’t affect her. And though it was highly unlikely, if someone thought of attacking her bodily, she will be safe from succumbing to injuries no matter how serious they might be, even the Avada Kedavra won’t kill her. However her immunity to the unforgivable curse is because they are authentic magical core mates. Their magical core bonding would insure she lives as long as he will, and also the link would allow him to locate her, wherever she is.

She was hesitant to drink the potion, she asked him for a time to consider thoroughly the consequences. Did she want to live forever? Not necessarily, she never had any phobias concerning death. She expressed her doubts and uncertainties, and he listened carefully. She was leaning towards the “Nay” until he ordered her to meet him in the playroom.

There, after kissing his feet and crawling to the middle of the room, where he ordered to stand up, under the pulley system, he shackled her hands up. Checking to make sure her circulation was not hindered in any way, he flogged her, for ten minutes, while blindfolded, barely able to stand on her tiptoes, and an eight-inch phallic gag in her mouth and pushing at the back of her throat.

Her skin under his skilled wrist movements became a bare virgin canvas. Handling the flogger akin to an artist; coloring her flesh with pinks, reds and darker hues of magenta, like a kid with a box of crayon, he painted stripes, crosses, squares, triangles. She was his living, breathing, moaning, and aroused geometric Piece of Art.

His blows alternating through pressure, speed, cadence and force. The swishing strands of the suede flogger tantalizing her ears, before the tresses burned deliciously her sizzling skin, like tens of stinging fingers, her fluids increased their precipitation, with the tongues of fire licking her back and front, from shoulders to ankles. After, he made sure she was dripping wet by fingering her sodden vagina, inserting three fingers to the last knuckle, he crooned “ My slut is so wet…as she should be…I will make you drown in your own juices my little slave…” he chuckled as she gasped under his probing, enticing fingers.

He then took out the phallic gag from her mouth, and the blindfold, to show her the butt plug. It was an exact copy of his penis in size, and as thick. She shivered excitedly knowing what would come next when he ordered her saying, ”suck it …it’s the only lubrication you’re going to get.”

She drooled on it, like a dog with a bone, from experience she knew the burn afterwards would turn to unimaginable pleasure. She did her best to slobber like a snail, knowing he’ll keep his word, no matter how painful for her it might be, at first. For him, her groans and moans of discomfort were like an aphrodisiac. He was an absolute sadist, but he always took the utmost precautions for her safety. Her well-being was his obsession, his priority. Checking and rechecking everything before proceeding or continuing their scene, asking her if she is good, with each unfolding stage.

Noting that the butt-plug was lubricated enough, he slowly inserted it in her anus, her pained gasps, and pants added fuel to his already blazing fire. He slapped her hard on her bum ordering “take it pet”. Once the thick rod was totally inserted, her turned it slowly left and right, and tapped its flattened end, whispering “Vibrato” which made the torture that much delectable.

The hums and vibrations started to spread from her bottom to her soaked up sheath, through the common muscled wall between the rectum and vagina. Thus insuring the stimulation of all the congregation of nerves in both nether cavities. The stimuli then extend to her entire body. Her juices downpour was gushing out dribbling down her inner thighs, trickling all the way down to her feet and flooring. Some dripped directly from her vagina to meet the wooden floor, in long oily lines, which made her Master hum in approval “Good girl…you deserve a reward slave….” He kissed her sweet and slow, and she was hanging to his lips like her own life depended on it.

She knew that this was his answer to her indecision about drinking the potion or not. It was more a sensual kind of punishment, his brand of foreplay. He wanted her to feel what she will have with him, what she could expect and obtain. He wanted to prove to her how much he cared for her, that he could and would fulfill her needs and wants. He wanted to make sure she knew that with him, all of her kinky, dark, and twisted masochistic demands will be met and then some!

He stood before her, eating her with his hungry eyes, face stern, yet the bulge under his tight-fit black leather pants was enough indication for her, about his state of arousal. He always wore black leather pants, nothing else. His bare chest was glossy from the effort and concentration he was under while flogging her. A wickedly dark and ferocious smile lifted his lips, a promise of more pain to come, to ensure both their pleasure.

From his back pocket he took out the Y shaped nipple and clitoris clamps. The serrated ones. Licking and suckling each tit until it stood turgid and hard, he slowly fastened the two jaws closed, she yelped involuntarily. No matter how much she loved these beautiful platinum snake shaped mammary adornments, with eyes made of emeralds, the first bite of the jaws stinging her sensitive flesh was really painful. And that was the easy part. He gave her all the time required to feel the aching throbs, until her teat numbed, and repeated the torture with the other.

Again waiting until she calmed, he squatted in front of her, and she knew the hard part was about to start. He Licked sucked, and flicked his tongue over her already hard and unsheathed clitoris. The nerves were pulsating with every pass of his stroking wet appendage, he drove her to the brink, a flick away from climax and she screamed her voice raw when instead, two saw-toothed jaws clamped down on the most sensitive organ, the searing raw nerves muting into needles and pins, and flashing the stinging and burning sensations to her sore breasts and back. It became a vicious circle of endless delicious torture. Her inundated channel attested to it, and the waterworks were a testimony to his sadistic mastery.

The hardest part came when he added small weights to each ring in the nipple-clamps, which made her moans that much more enjoyable, then unshackling her hands, he said “stay”. Massaging the blood back into her limbs, and her tired muscles. Her Master then moved to sit on his throne, to issue another order “ Crawl to me slave”. And crawl she did, butt-plug and clamps pushing and pulling at her aching yet oh so aroused flesh.

“My precious slave deserves a reward… Kneel and worship your Master’s cock, little one, you earned this honor.”

He made her worship his penis, for half an hour straight, until her knees screamed for mercy. The unyielding platinum chain that connected her nipples and clitoris didn’t give any leeway, her concavely arched spine, due to her kneeling position, forced her pull even more on it, which ended in tugging on her three tortured nubs. The small weights that he hung on her nipple-clamps added to the excruciating jabs with each motion, whilst his thrusts and shoves in her throat made them swing and sway.

There were small volcanoes erupting in her teats and clitoris, burning constantly and relentlessly. In turn, the soreness ignited different sensations in the deepest of her core, and she wanted him to allow her to climax. The tenuous vibrations dispensed by the butt-plug, incited the soreness to escalate into enjoyable delight, with each yank and jerk, from her swaying bent posterior. She was oscillating like a pendulum, with the weights on her breasts, dangling over the abyss of blissful orgasm, but he held her securely in her chains, tethered to his control, by an invisible harness, that only his permission would untie, set her free to plunge and crash into the solid and brutal pleasure he always delivered.

She was afraid her jawbone would dislocate if he continued stuffing her face and throat, thrusting deep with his enormous shaft. Countless times forcing her to gag, splutter and drool like a broken faucet all over him, and betwixt her thighs. His “humiliating” comments exciting her like the lashes of his bullwhip “Gag on it cock-slave…yesss…I want you to hear you choke slut… swallow it …to the balls…fuck…yesss…again milk it…good fucking slave…fuccck …”.

His orders demanding her total submission to his pleasure, and much more so hers, were an aphrodisiac all on their own, “ Yessss…milk your Master’s cock painslut…I bet you want to cum don’t you…your little cunt is crying for Master’s dick to fuck it…”

His hands kept her head steady, moving her head as he pleased. His right hand holding her thick plait of braided hair wrapped around his fist. She was required to always pleat her long hair, so that her locks won’t get entangled in any impact toy strands, for her safety. His left hand, positioned beneath her mandible, held her throat up, and kept it aligned with his pummeling appendage, and the bonus was for him to probe his shaft through the thin layer of skin, thrusting in and out.

His hips kept thrusting up while pushing her head down relentlessly, a sensual, buccal punishment, though she was uninhibitedly excited by his forceful treatment and words. And he knew it, since she could see his gleeful satisfaction in his burning dark eyes. “Look at you mud-slut, worshiping my cock on your knees…as you should, ….fuckkk…yesss…swallow again…let me feel your throat contract slave…your mouth looks so beautiful wrapped around my dick…you will cum …with my cock in your mouth slave…when I tell you to…without touching yourself…you deserve it…such a good cock worshipper…”

Just by looking into her watery eyes, and dilated pupils, he knew she was teetering on the slanted border of her ecstasy precipice, and just waiting for him to give her that tiny push to dive down, like bungee-jumping junky, but without the securing elastic cord.

Following the tears tracks on her cheeks, with his piercing gaze, a result of all his pounding and pressure on her cranial cavity, his leer grew bigger. He relished how her liquid desire and lust for him melted down, flowing between her thighs, dribbling to her bent knees, to spatter on the wooden floor. The moans, and whimpers slipping between her cramped lips, were pleading with him to let her orgasm. He groaned and grunted when he felt the treble of her humming throat vibrate directly on the over sensitized skin of his hard shaft.

“I going to make you cum without fucking you, my delicious cocksucker… without touching you…Oh your mouth feels so good around Master’s dick baby…yesss …you will swallow your protein-shake precious pet …every single drop…”

Her throat was sore, and she couldn’t swallow anymore without feeling his ghost appendage filling it, as if he also stretched her esophagus to fit his size! He spurted his sperm in forceful gushes rumbling her name. “ Hermione” sounded like a prayer from his lips, a plea from an agonizing man, under duress, this by itself made her feel happy, fulfilled, whole, and wildly excited. The words tumbled from her mouth, wanting to share her deepest feelings at that moment, and all she could do was thanking him wholeheartedly “ Thank you Master for the honor of sucking your cock”.

His smile was telling her he was proud of her. His petting caresses, on her head expressed his infinite tenderness, his absolute care. His kiss, deep yet soft reclaimed her as his, time and again, and tattooed his love in every flick, nip and strike of his tongue. After having his full of her mouth, he made her lie on the bed, and he unlatched both nipple clamps at the same time.

She shrieked and squealed to high heaven when the blood came rushing back into her numbed tits. It felt like hundreds of red-hot pins and needles were invading her mammary capillaries, though simultaneously her clitoris burned, and throbbed in unison. Not allowing her any respite to recover, he removed the last clamp, releasing her inflamed and puffy nerves’crux, and with one rub he said “ Cum for Master slave” And by all the Gods did she cum!

She climaxed with her spine tightly arched like a tensed bow, her head and buttocks her only points of contact with the mattress, screaming ‘Master’ in one single breath, to inhale and shriek again it on exhale. Her clitoris was the sun, ablaze and infernal. The blood suffusing anew her deprived tiny and microscopic veins, morphed into minuscule spears of fire, scorching every nerve to its ultimate tolerance. She couldn’t distinguish between the agonizing ecstasy and the pleasurable agony. Every single nerve end was torched, scorched, and resurrecting all together, in a split second, until her brain shut down, synapses collapsing and neurons fried.

After her infernal climax he took her in her other two orifices. Vaginally while he kept the butt plug in her anus, and anally after inserting another toy in her vagina. A dildo custom-built to his member’s size, after spelling it to vibrate to his directions, and synchronizing his thrusts in with the vibrator’s pulls out, giving her one orgasm after another. Double-penetrating her, while pinching and twisting her already sore breasts, and stroking and flicking her tingling clitoris, which became so sensitive it throbbed and ached, then pleasure started to turn into pain, which in turn fuelled more orgasmic bliss.

While feverishly slamming into her like an engine piston at full throttle, he in no uncertain terms told her, he won’t let anyone or anything, least of all her stubbornness, stand in the way of their mating, and her being his forever. With every shove in and push out, he pounded her, pummeled her, and drilled into her, in the most primeval of ways, that it was not an option for him to lose her, to live without her.

She was exhausted, almost on the verge of blackout. The recurrent induced orgasms special effects did not take long to make an appearance. The ecstatic bliss morphed into torturing pain, to cause pleasure to flare up again in her pain. She begged him to stop the vicious loop.

He asked her if she loved him, if she wanted to live with him forever. Obviously she did, since her answer was a definite resounding Yea. Besides she’s not a seer, and no one knows what tomorrow might bring, but with him, she could bet her life on it, he will bring her joy, fulfillment, and plenitude. And exhaustion! A wanted, no need, addictive exhaustion!

She moved on her cushion knowing she will need to change the towel she placed on top of it. The reason for that started while waiting for him in the playroom. Many times she drifted back to the recent past, recalling her training and what took place during those three months, their “scenes” in the playroom. How he wanted her to differentiate between his toys, while blindfolded and shackled to the whipping post.

He turned it into a game, with a reward for the right answer and correction for the wrong one. Thus for every toy’s name she guessed correctly, she would be rewarded with an orgasm, after five smacks from said cane, flogger or whip, as a correction for her wrong guess. The stinging riding-crops, the thudding floggers, cutting bullwhips, the biting cat-o-nine tail, searing dragon tails, twisted cable slappers, braided slappers… Merlin knows he did not go through the entirety of his collection, in one session, obviously, or else, she would have been mashed into a pulp!

He even had small floggers for her breasts and genitalia, and she thrived under his guidance, and nourishing Dominance. He made her taste her freedom through bondage; he was an expert with ropes. Shibari, he explained, in Japanese simply meant “to tie or to bind”. Though the contemporary meaning of Shibari refers to an ancient Japanese artistic form of rope bondage. The expression started to be commonly used in the West, in the 1990s, to denote the bondage art Kinbaku. He also clarified that many in the lifestyle prefer the term Kinbaku meaning “tight binding”, and Kinbaku-bi literally “the beauty of tight binding” instead of Shibari. As an addendum to his short exposé, he dryly remarked that as far as he was concerned, he couldn’t care less about names, he preferred to carry out the meaning.

He demonstrated the beauty of this art by starting from the basic and simple ties, to more complex weaving, and interlacing, with an astonishing result of visually intricate patterns. Using several pieces of thin monochrome or colored ropes, with varying length and thickness, depending on what he had in mind. He also made her touch and feel the ropes that were made from hemp, jute, or linen. He clothed her with rope corsets, one-piece swimsuit made of interwoven loops, ties and knots, even gloves for her hands, and socks on her feet. He twisted her limbs, in impossible angles, and adorned her flesh with colored geometrical shapes, that rivaled the most intricate of needlepoint lace.

His favorite, and hers to be honest, was the aerial display of her “kinbaku-bi’ed” body in airborne bondage position. She giggled at her anglicizing and conjugating the Japanese word. She recalled that Bondage session with a fluttering in her stomach. At the time, entering the playroom to wait for her Master, a thick metallic rod hanging from the ceiling by a two chains, forming a triangle; intrigued her. From the horizontal bar, and at symmetrical intervals, three sturdy climbing ropes were looped and knotted securely. Each had a carabiner dangling on the hanging end side. The Leather upholstered rectangular table was positioned directly underneath.

When her Master came in, and after greeting him, kissing his feet, he made her sit on the table, back ramrod straight, legs stretched in front of her. On the right side wall, he opened one of the dark wood panels, that hid behind his equipment, supplies and toys, he pulled out more than fifteen thick coils of rope. He slowly, painstakingly, tied loops and intertwined ropes, his attentive yet artful work, progressing from her upper torso, hands locked behind her back, to her mid section. He securely fastened each looping end inside the first two carabiners.

He pulled on the chain that held the bar, and hauled it up through the pulley system. She was lifted up a couple of inches, feeling the tension in the vertical ropes connecting her body to the carabiners. Her lower limbs were folded at the knees, by an intricately stunning rope interweave, rivaling the most elaborate of lace, keeping the back of her thighs joined to her calves, and spread wide with a spreader-bar affixed between her knees.

He made her lie on her back, her hands tied behind her back added to her discomfort and his pleasure, especially at how her breasts were jutting out, and the nipple-clamps hanging to the sides. Fastening her above the knees with straps attached to a spreader-bar. He made sure to open her legs as wide as it was possible for her. He then tied each leg separately, after bending it at the knees, from ankles to under the kneecaps. He looped a rope around the spreader-bar and hooked it into the third carabiner, giving it less length than the other two, in order to let her lower body part level with her upper torso. She was straight like a ruler from her Atlas to her Coccyx.

Pushing the table underneath her out of the way. She hung suspended by the ropes; her backside was parallel to the floor, head tilting up side down. The three equidistant harnessing webs, fashioned with ropes, equally distributing her body weight, without any strain on her spine.

She felt herself oscillating gently, hanging almost a meter above ground. It was an exhilarating sensation, swinging weightlessly to and fro. Unhindered by her body mass, floating but rather than in water, she was suspended in mid-air. She wondered if it was how zero gravity felt like. She felt happy, free like a bird, and at that moment she understood fully the significance of being free in chains!

The first loop of weaved ropes formed a mesh that passed under her shoulders and armpits, to wrap tightly around her breasts, the ropes crisscrossing in the form of a horizontal eight. Her globes turned purple-red. A well-known effect of breasts’ bondage due to the pressurized blood in the vessels. Her nipples, in no time, became bloated, rock-stiff and roughly tender. He lovingly and tenderly tortured them with his tongue, and then secured a pair of golden nipple-clamps, adorned with rubies, on her already viciously aching breasts. A ‘special creation for his Gryffindor slave’, he shushed as she gasped and wriggled about.

The second framework knitting encircled her waist in wide loops and secured most of her middle-back, to protect her spine from tension or injury. The third enclosed her hips, upper thighs and around her buttocks, similar to a bikini bottom framework. Her vulva opened like a flower, as the pressure and tension of two lateral ropes pulled at the sides of her labia majora.

Her hands in this posture were tied behind her back, each palm cupping the opposite elbow joint; the left hand palm covering the inside, the right palm cupping the outer edge of the Humerus bone. Her forearms from wrists to elbows were swathed with complex connected loops of interlacing ropes. This position resulted in pushing her engorged bosom even further up.

It took time, since all was done the muggle way, no magic. He said he liked to touch her skin, to be in constant contact with her silken flesh that he owns. Besides, he informed her, it is the best method, making sure he was not hindering her blood circulation and endangering her health. Her safety being paramount, and should always comes first before his pleasure.

All of this beautiful work ended up with him adjusting her height to his crotch level, and he spent his time using each single orifice of her body, on display. He made her deep throat him until he climaxed in her mouth, and with a spin of his hand, the bar holding her through the three climbing ropes rotated in a 180 degree arch. He kneeled between her spread thighs, and let his skillful tongue and hands and fingers drive her to the edge time and again, until she begged and pleaded with him, then only he made her see heaven up close and personal. And the rest of her orgasms came with his penetrating her, alternating between the superimposed holes.

She remembers waking up through her after-care, while he was massaging her body. She was bathed and clean.

She loved everything he’d done to her. Well almost everything except for the dreaded cane. She simply hated it, especially when he used it for really harsh punishments.

Godric’s sword! He has a vicious and mean wrist flick with the darn rattan stick acting like a skin slicer! Nevertheless, and in spite of the pain, she always ended up discovering how drenched she was. In such circumstances, to up the ante, and also as a more effective correction and discipline, her Master had forbidden her from climaxing. The orgasm denial being one of the most apprehended of his reprisals, she always tried not to incur such extreme disciplining.

Her Master entering the playroom cut her reminiscing short. Her body reacted to his overwhelming presence. Once he stopped in front of her, she prostrated herself, prepared to kiss his feet, and greet him like the good slave whom she prided herself to be.

LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++HG++LV++
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Plenitude