Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Mudblood's Revenge	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 5844 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from Harry Potter created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Special thanks to my beta: Wee-Red-Vixen.
And I thank everyone who read and reviewed.
A Mudblood's Revenge
'That piece of shi—'
Chapter 4: To The Victor
The rest of her sentence was muffled as Voldemort claimed her mouth in a brutal, searing kiss. His hand tilted her head, forcing her into a position that granted him more access. Her heart skipped a beat at the way his demanding tongue forcefully explored her mouth and all she could do was follow his lead. She possessed no weapons of any kind to stop him. His magic roamed all over her body, touching her wherever he pleased. Whenever hers rose up to meet his and stop it, he squashed that little bit of light of hers like a bug. She felt helpless in this hold. Her arms dangled limp next to her sides as she sank against him. His grip on her waist tightened painfully. Her fear of what this man, this dark wizard, was capable of spiked to unimaginable heights. She'd planned to barter her life, Harry's life, and their freedom for the only sword capable of killing him—a sword she could no longer touch. She'd lost all her advantages.
She was truly and fully at his mercy.
Her stomach tied up in knots. Her whole body quivered in his hold. She wished she could hide her emotions better, but after this whole day and that revelation, she didn't know how. He growled, pulling her head back by her hair, baring her throat to him, and pressing her hips against his. Hermione gulped at the size of the hard cock against her belly.
'Finally afraid now, aren't we?' he said, sounding positively delighted.
There was no use in denying it. 'Ýes.'
'Yes, what?'
She swallowed. Her voice trembled as she said quietly, 'Yes, my Lord.'
'I like the sound of your insolent voice like that, Mudblood. Demure, obedient, submissive, as it should be.'
He explored her throat with his tongue and mouth. Hermione stilled whenever he took her flesh between his teeth, fearing he'd tear out her throat with what would be such a simple move right now and knowing she would not die so quickly either.
'Such delicious prey you make, little Mudblood. You feel how responsive you are to your Master?'
'Yes, my Lord.'
'How your unruly Mudblood body begs to be controlled, to be owned by someone powerful enough to relieve it of its need to think.'
She whimpered.
'It must have been so hard for someone of your obvious intelligence to have to deal with it on your own, to sense your body taking over, because there was no one powerful enough to tame that basic Mudblood urge to rut like an animal.'
His hands were everywhere, groping her with a bruising force. His breath brushed her ear.
'This is why we must control your kind, Hermione.'
Her name sounded both sinuous and vicious coming from his lips, like the mockery he'd made of her as he turned her around in his arms and pushed her down on her knees and then on all fours.
'This is how you need it, like the animal you are, isn't it, Mudblood?'
Hermione bit her lip. She wouldn't say this. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She yelped when he slapped her left buttock hard.
'Answer your Master, Mudblood.'
'Yes, my Lord,' she stammered.
He paused. A single digit traced the wounds on her back, each brush making her clench in pain.
'Walden's method is effective, yet crude. It stilled your need, did it not?'
Hermione swallowed, rapidly nodding her head, knowing it was a lie and fearing he'd hear her dishonesty in her voice if she spoke.
'I know, little one. It's alright to admit you need to be put in your place so you don't end up running naked through a forest, fucking everything in your path, as your mind slowly but surely disintegrates until nothing human remains.'
Was that what they were doing to these poor people in the cages, destroying their minds?
Being raped. Being hurt. Yes, they frightened her, but losing her mind was Hermione's ultimate fear. She'd watched it happen to her bright, intelligent grandmother. How Alzheimer's disease took away everything she was until only a shell remained.
Like the dulled eyes of those people.
His tall form leaned over her, his hands working her breasts, pinching her nipples, and moving over her belly before going back up again as they got close to her hips. His legs were on the outskirts of hers. Despite his robes still covering him fully, his cock stroked between her thighs, rubbing through her folds, coating his robes with her arousal.
It was utterly humiliating to feel her body respond favourably to his touch while he breathed vile words in her ear. She swore it made her even wetter.
'I can't have that happen to such a clever little Mudblood. I would be utterly remiss in my duties as a proper wizard.'
When she let out an uncontrollable snort, his harsh slap echoed through the room, making her scream out in pain.
'See, another sign of your innate Mudblood inability to control yourself.'
Slap! Slap! Slap!
He alternated between her buttocks, clearly enjoying her louder cries when he hit one of the cursed wounds because he started favouring that side.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
'Please, my Lord,' she begged. 'Please.'
'Does my little Mudblood even know what she's begging me for?' he sneered. 'Does it still have the ability to think or did it come too late to her Master for salvation?'
'Please,' Hermione whimpered, her behind throbbing in pain.
Every time he hit her, it felt like the knife sliced through her again and again and again. She didn't think she could take any more.
'Looking at how much you stained my robes in your animalistic urges, I really do wonder if I'm not too late, Hermione.'
The way he alternated between using her name, slurs, and referring to her as a thing, instead of a human being, set her teeth on edge.
'But you are my thing, aren't you, pet? My little toy to play with, to do with as I see fit, to spread you open wide and take you when and wherever I so please.'
Her cunt clenched in agony at the emptiness. His mocking laughter made her drop her head in shame. How did he notice that?
'Because I'm your Master. A true Master always knows. His stupid, clueless pet is naturally ignorant about such information, but it shall be taught. It shall learn its place. It shall be mine wholly: mind, body and soul.'
Her whole world spun on its axes. She couldn't tell up from down anymore. She couldn't tell where she was. All she knew, saw, and felt was him. He was her only clarity. Her only voice. He was everywhere. There was no escape.
He entered her with a rough push, without warning, without a chance to prepare herself for how deep his penetration would go, how thick he was. It was a sharp, throbbing pain as if he ripped her open to accommodate his girth. She tossed her head back and arched her back.
'My cunt,' he hissed.
A spark of his magic activated her clit so ferociously, it made her toes curl and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as an orgasm already raced through her. He kept a forceful pace, his hands on her hips, tilting them to allow him to thrust deeper as he rode her orgasm out. His fingers dug so hard into her skin she knew she'd be black-and-blue in the morning. At some stage the trembling in her arms as she struggled to hold herself up became too much and they gave out. She would've crashed on her face had he not grabbed her hair and pulled her flush against his body, She winced when the wounds on her back came in contact with his chest as he forcibly fucked her upright.
'So tight you are,' he whispered into her ear. 'I plan to use that to my advantage in taming you, pet. You need taming, don't you?'
'Yes, my Lord,' Hermione said breathlessly.
She could feel her need rising again, throbbing inside, yearning so badly it hurt. It was unmistakable everywhere. She'd never experienced feeling her need outside of her sex like this, like her need was all she was.'
'That's part of your Mudblood disability,' he hissed ever so softly. 'Your whole body being nothing but a cunt that needs filling. You understand now, don't you?'
Go fuck yourself.
She knew what was happening to her was something he was doing, and she'd be damned if she allowed him to beat her like that. Her whine filled the air when he traced a single digit over her clit.
'Such typical immature crude Mudblood language.'
He tsked at her while his groin smacked audibly against her aching behind, making her clench as he undoubtedly deliberately struck that cursed wound with each thrust. The upright position let him reach a deeper angle, caressing something inside of her she didn't know existed. She needed that feeling more than life itself.
'I see I must be a harder, more punitive Master. We can't have you slipping up and losing yourself, now can we? However, I shall find suitable punishment for that transgression … after we're done here.'
His hands slipped down her body until he caught her hips and pulled her down hard while his cock drove deep into her cunt like he was stabbing her. Hermione whimpered at being so painfully filled. A low growl accompanied his release as he filled her with his cum. An arm around her waist kept her pinned flush against him, his slowly softening member still buried deep inside her. A painful stretch inside of her cunt made her wince. An obvious bulge thickened at the base of his cock, growing rapidly in size. It hurt. Badly. All her instincts screamed at her to get away, to push him away, to not allow this to continue.
Yet her mind told her to stay still, to not move no matter what. There was something about his tight hold that gave her pause. It clicked in her mind as she realised his cock had captured, sealed off her cunt and locked them together. She couldn't move without risking shredding herself to pieces. Somehow she knew it would just be her, not him.
And he called her an animal?
'Only a powerful Master can lay claim on a cunt,' he said, his hands following the curves of her body all the way up to her throat.
He briefly stayed there, long fingers wrapping around her throat, making her acknowledge he could kill her oh so easily now,
'You'd beg for a release if I squeezed now until you ran out of air, wouldn't you, Hermione?'
'Yes, Master,' she breathed in a pained tone of voice. She'd beg for one now, too. He might've come, but she still needed to.
'I do so love that expression of hurt on your face, that need for me,' he added, yanking on her hair, forcing her head back so her eyes were forced to meet his gaze and acknowledge exactly who she was with. 'You hate that I'm the one making you feel this way, don't you?'
'Yes.'
'Yes, who?' he threatened.
Her whole body yerked when he slapped her breast with the palm of his hand and then twisted her nipple. Hard.
'Yes, my Lord,' she breathed out with a moan.
'My little painslut,' he whispered triumphantly. 'I plan to make you hurt so bad and make it feel so good, you'll beg me for more.'
Her cunt clenched even harder at his words.
'Oh yessss, painslut, service your Master,' he hissed with a moan.
She liked finding out she could affect him. Instead of him manipulating her every need, this was a welcome change. When moving up and down wasn't an option, she worked her inner muscles rhythmically, clenching and unclenching, not keeping a pace he could expect. To her surprise his cock hardened again.
He really didn't work like any other man she'd ever met.
'I'm by far superior to any other man,' he whispered softly, almost gently, kissing the sensitive skin of her throat. 'I've pushed the boundaries of magic beyond what is deemed possible and have conquered that inevitable fate of death. I'm more than human. I'm a god.'
Okay, sure, whatever.
His fingers slid over her face, investigating every curve, and she closed her eyes when he brushed over her eyelashes. His gentle touches were beyond titillating, maddening in the desire it invoked in her, the surrender and relaxation her body exhibited oh so clearly. She sank against his chest, glorying in their joining, relishing it as she worked him harder and harder.
'Your god,' he added, his fingers finding her clit and she felt his smirk against her skin at her jolt. 'Admit it, Mudslut. I have ruined you for any other man. You'll never gain the pleasure you had today with any other.'
Hermione felt it was totally unfair to make any such statements while working someone's clit raw.
'I've never been a fan of fair,' Voldemort replied, laughing as he felt her thrash in his arms upon reaching her peak.
He kept working her clit, prolonging the exhilaration rushing through her, wave after wave after wave. Her heart raced so fast it felt like it was trying to jump out of her chest. And despite her rapid breaths, it still felt like she was suffocating. She needed more air to sustain the needs of her body. It had her flying high, making the world a blur around her. He pushed her far over her boundaries, far over her body's limitations, and then, expected even more, demanded even more. He'd drain her dry.
'So clever.'
His praise was like a soothing balm, holding her attention, making her work harder for him, making her want to work harder as the waves tried to pull her under, making her gasp for air.
'I wonder if you'll survive,' he whispered, his hand touching her chest right where her heart lay, pounding viciously. 'You're certainly formidable enough. No one ever lasted long enough to climax even once.'
She liked that she got further than any other. She needed his praise, the excellent attention his fingers were giving her. She had to live up to expectations and then surpass them. She had to.
She wasn't the brightest witch of her age for nothing.
His cock twitched and curved, and as a white bright light made her scream out, so did he spill his seed for a second time inside of her.
She sank into his arms, exhausted, knowing if he demanded more, she would die. Yet, he slowly let himself sink, too, his back coming to rest on the ground. Hermione groaned in pain, clutching her legs after she'd stretched them out.
'Cramps?' Voldemort asked lazily, apparently not having any issue at all to stretch out his long legs after that prolonged period on his knees.
She nodded, her teeth clenching together.
His hand waved over her thighs, a cooling sensation spread fast and she relaxed, feeling the pain vanish.
'Thank you,' she said gratefully, quickly adding 'Master' when she felt him stiffen underneath her.
'Good girl,' he said, stroking her hair. 'I shall have you build up your thighs' strength and agility—' he stopped talking.
With a simple swirl of his hand, a diagnostic spell rushed through her body. 'Ah, not just thighs then. Your overall stamina needs improving. Don't worry, I'll train you like any good Master would.'
'I'm not dead,' she countered, somewhat annoyed at his assessment of her physical state when apparently his previous partners had not made it.
'Exactly why I plan to take you harder and longer next time,' he breathed into her ear, making a shudder run through her exhausted body.
'How long are we going to remain stuck like this?' Hermione asked.
'Theoretically it should be half an hour, hour tops,' Voldemort replied lazily. 'However, this is the first time I have been able to come twice inside a living human. The closure doesn't happen when there is no chance at procreation.'
Hermione felt a slight panic at that thought rise up in her chest.
'No worries,' he said, his fingers stroking her curls out of her perspiring face. 'I have no desire to foster any offspring either. I'll cleanse your womb once we're uncoupled.'
'Those magical cleanses are only 95% effective,' she countered, tilting her head to look up at him.
His slits-for-nostrils briefly flared as if she'd offended him. Then he looked down and smirked, 'A common contraceptive charm would do nothing to stop my seeds' hold.'
Hermione felt like rolling her eyes at the pride he displayed at that.
'But once I've strapped you tightly to a Cunt Healer's chair,' he said, smirking at her aghast expression upon his crude language, 'I'll do a thorough examination of your private parts first to make sure everything is where it is supposed to be. After all, being the disgusting little Mudblood that you are, chances are high you're not built like proper witches are.'
'You mean like yourself,' she snarked, sticking out her tongue at him.
He caught it before she was able to close her mouth and tsked at her, as she struggled to force him to let go.
'Such bad behaviour, and here I thought my Mudblood had learned her lesson,' he taunted, his fingers forcing her jaw to remain open wide while he chanted in a language foreign to her ears.
When he was done and let go, her mouth wouldn't move and her tongue dangled uselessly over her lip. She couldn't make a sound either, she quickly realised.
'Such a useful curse, wouldn't you agree, Mudslut? I could sit and relax, push your head in my crotch and have you take my thrusts. Some have died, choking on cock and cum, unable to work their tongue.'
'Or perhaps I shall keep you restrained in my arms, hold your head back, have my followers form a line and have them choose what to do with that filthy mouth of yours?'
She shivered in his arms.
'What's that, pet? Do you like the idea of thirty three different cocks hitting the back of your throat, spilling their seed in your mouth? You won't lose consciousness. It'll just feel like you're suffocating. I'll make sure of that.'
Hermione shook her head wildly.
'No?' he taunted, 'Perhaps something else then to tame my pet into showing me the proper respect? Perhaps when the meeting continues, you'd prefer to be used as a urinal for my followers? You do need fluids to sustain yourself, and Mudbloods' bodies do tend to flourish when they get fed the right nutritional ingredients.'
She elbowed him harshly in the side, causing him to laugh loudly.
'Fine, option one then, I'll strap you to the Cunt Healer's chair for all to feast their eyes upon but no touching,' he decided.
It was then that his bulge shrunk. She wanted to get up, but he held her tightly to his chest.
'Just a bit longer,' he warningly said.
I don't want you to hold me!
'Liar,' he smugly said, finally allowing her to roll off of him and helping her to her feet.
With a flick of his wrist, what looked surprisingly similar to a gynaecologist's chair, just with added extras Hermione was sure weren't for her benefit, appeared on the dias next to his throne.
At that height, everyone would have a direct line of sight of her cunt.
That's disgustingly vulgar, and you're not doing that to me.
'It is vulgar,' he agreed, advancing on her, 'and yes, you will sit on that, voluntarily or forced. I don't mind what you choose. Either way you'll be bound tightly, unable to move and visibly collared as mine. Now I need to lecture and demonstrate to my followers how to properly examine and cleanse a Mudblood, and you'll do nicely. This chair also comes with the added bonus of stretching your legs as wide as I please, and you do need to work on your agility if you are to keep up with me. Some sustained stretching to the point of painful will assist in taming my pet and allow everyone to follow my lesson properly. I wonder how far up your cunt they'll be able to see when I make sure it's lit properly. I know for certain they'll be able to tell how wet you'll get for me, treating you that way.'
He smirked at her evilly as her face flushed, and her cunt already demonstrated the truth of his words. He stopped right before her, his body heat enveloping hers, his fingers dipping between her folds.
'I'll show them how a Mudblood's sex reacts to every touch and curve of her Master,' he said, leaning in and whispering in her ear, making her shiver.
'How receptive it is. How needy,' he added, making her clench when he simultaneously slipped his finger into her cunt and worked her clit.
'How a Mudblood requires constant stimulation or it will lose its mind.'
He added another finger, and she couldn't stop her body from reacting to his excellent attention.
'The most beautiful part is that you brought the inability to speak on yourself, so I can and will demean you undisturbed, as is a true Master's calling. And everyone will see how hard my Mudblood comes at my command if I wish for her to come.
Now!' he ordered.
Hermione's leg caved as he quickly pulled her against him, prolonging her orgasm with his nimble fingers.
'They can all gather 'round and watch you unravel like this, pet. If you're a good girl, I might even allow you a choice in who will be my assistant,' he added, withdrawing his fingers and helping her stand up straight, though her legs were still slightly wobbly.
I thought you didn't share what was yours.
'I don't, but that doesn't mean I mind showing off what is now rightfully mine,' he said, his fingers trailing the side of her face.
I'm not yours just cause we had sex!
She jerked back, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back against his chest.
'Don't be foolish now, Hermione,' he whispered, his fingers cupping the back of her head as she looked up at him with her brown eyes. 'You're cleverer than that. You're not mine because we had sex. You're mine because you want to be. You're mine because you surrendered yourself to me wholly. If you don't believe my words, let me show you the proof of that.'
His hand slid down her back. Her eyes widened—her whole body going taut—as his fingers disappeared into her flesh, curling around a handle he shouldn't have been able to touch before pulling the sword right out of her.
Lord Voldemort stepped back from her, his eyes glinting as he held up the Sword of Gryffindor.
'I did warn you not to let more powerful wizards charm you,' he said softly.
What have I done?
'So, what special powers does this have?' he wondered, his wand waving over the steel.
His eyes flickered to her, and he held out the sword, holding it inches away from the hollow of her throat.
'I suppose one sticks it with the pointy end, but even for Godric Gryffindor that's a bit mundane,' he murmured. 'No, there must be more to this, otherwise the old coot wouldn't have chosen it as a weapon to kill me. Too bad for him, now it is mine as you are mine.'
He realised it the second she did. His furious scream filled the room as she simply stepped forward and had the sword slice into her throat as he tried to withdraw it. Her blood sprayed out of her throat with such ferocity, it struck his face and coated the sword. The handle turned so slippery his fingers slid down to the steel. He lightly nicked himself on the blade, not even noticing as he frantically waved his wand to stop her bleeding.
Too late. I win.
He heard her triumphant thought and saw her eyes focusing on his hand clutching around the steel, his blood mixing with hers. He let go, looking bemused at the tiny scratch he'd sustained.
She'd won? He'd had worse wounds than this at the orphanage. Yet, this was no ordinary sword. He had to make her talk.
Hermione collapsed to the floor. Blood pumped out of her throat in rapid waves, pooling around her body. He sank down next to her, leaning on the sword while his wand moved rapidly, but the wound didn't close fast enough. Hermione convulsed, arms and legs thrashing, her eyes panicking until they turned empty and all movements stopped. Her tongue stuck out at him in a final act of mockery.
His ferocious scream travelled for miles as the Sword of Gryffindor vanished into thin air.
He stood up, looking down at the dead Mudblood in disgust. He'd seen something in her that held promise. Instead she was just like the rest of those self-sacrificing fools.
Useless.
Utterly, disgustingly useless.
He blinked, feeling rather lightheaded all of a sudden. He had to sit down. The room span. He pressed his eyelids together and crashed to his knees in a pool of her blood. A fearsome burn hit his heart. Rapidly it spread through his body. He sank to his side. Every breath was like inhaling flames. He couldn't get any air. His eyes darted from the tiny scratch in the palm of his hand to the dead, little witch on the floor.
I win.
'For now you have, Miss Granger,' he thought.
Quickly he sent a message to his most faithful before he lost control over his body and fell on top of her. His world was darkening when his final breath left his lungs, thinking, 'But I will be back.'
Miles away, Harry Potter woke up with a start. 'Hermione.'
Ginny yawned and rose, sitting up beside him. 'What's wrong?'
I win.
Her voice echoed through his brain. Everything showed like a film on repeat: the image of her blood spraying into his face, the sting in his palm from the sword, how she'd convulsed on the floor in a pool of her blood, the anger when she died too fast for him to save her, the sword's disappearance upon her death, and the burning inside before he tumbled on top of her.
Basilisk venom. How utterly foolish of them.
'She won,' he repeated her words, staring straight ahead—a flash of red sparked inside his green eyes. 'He's dead.'
'What's wrong?' Ginny repeated.
'So is she.'
Ginny wrapped her arms around him in comfort, her head coming to rest against his back. It was a comfort he didn't need. This was Albus Dumbledore's doing, and He would make the old coot pay.
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Mudblood's Revenge