Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Captive Audience	By : magentasouth Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 44847 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from any part of the Harry Potter universe.

Chapter List
- 1-Ch 1
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-Ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 6-Ch 6
- 7-Ch 7
- 8-Ch 8
- 9-Ch 9
- 10-Ch 10
- 11-Ch 11
- 12-Ch 12
- 13-Ch 13
- 14-Ch 14
- 15-Ch 15 (just edited - no addition)
- 16-Ch 16
- 17-Ch 17
- 4
- 5
- 6
She woke to screaming echoing off the walls.

�It was nothing new.� She barely startled and actually considered
going back to sleep.�

There was a gnawing in her stomach and it would be easier to
tolerate if she were asleep.�

She cracked an eye to see who was under the wand at present
and then opened her eyes in shock.� It
was Draco Malfoy.�

She struggled up, blinking and wiping at her eyes, trying to work out what was
going on.�

Her dress was lavender crepe.� She�d always hated the colour and the
experiences with the girl by the same name hadn�t improved her feelings toward
the colour.�

A single glass of water stood in the centre of her
cage.�

She pounced on it but it dissolved into air in her fingers.�

The screams subsided into sobbing.� She looked up again at the blonde figure curled
into a foetal position on the black stone floor.� What had Draco done to be punished?� He�d received more than just a quick reproof
hex.��

Several other younger boys stood in a line further back, shaking in their
boots.� Obviously the entire group had
failed in some way.�

Her eye wandered along the row and then flicked back.� She almost hadn�t recognised Blaise Zabini.
The Slytherin had been in Malfoy�s
circle since she could remember and had otherwise never been apparent in her
view of Hogwarts.�

He looked very changed.� Much harder.� Of the
group, he looked the least frightened.�

Determined and resigned, yes.� Frightened... not so much.��

His pale grey eyes stood out against the coffee coloured skin sharply and sharp
was a word that could be applied to a lot of things about him.� He looked like someone who had seen too much
too young.�

She wondered suddenly what she looked like herself.� It had been months since she had last looked
in a mirror.�� The silvery curls of the
cage were matt.�

She crawled to the front of the cage and looked out through
a gap, as Draco pulled himself back up onto his knees with difficulty.� His face was tear-streaked as he looked up at
Lord Voldemort.�

He seemed much younger than his years and utterly miserable.� Not at all like the nasty arrogant little
prat she�d faced at Hogwarts for six years.

��You are worthless! Just like your father.� Voldemort hissed at him disparagingly.

�Zabini.� Forward.��

Draco�s face, even in his discomfort became strained. �My Lord!� Please!� I can handle it! I�ll retrieve the sword if
you give me one m-�� He
was silenced.� Voldemort didn�t even
bother to curse him.� He simply ignored
him, which seemed to be worse for Draco.��
The boy�s head fell in horror.�

She wondered what could be so terrible that Voldemort seemed less frightening
in comparison.��

Blaise had stepped forward and dropped now to one knee
beside Draco.� His face betrayed
nothing.�

�You have...thoughts... on how Malfoy should have approached
the problem, Zabini.�� Share them.� Tell me why I should give your group a second
chance.� Why should I let you lead this
assemblage of failures to potentially worsen
the situation?� What would you do any better than the streak of
piss next to you?!��

Hermione watched the emotions passing over Draco�s face like
storm clouds.��

He was aware that his life hung in
the balance and still his pride (and
fear, for some reason) was flaring over the fact that he might not be the
leader.� He had always been the leader in
his environment, particularly over friends, such as Blaise.� Having to obey Blaise would be unthinkable,
apparently.�

She felt sorry for him.�

Zabini spoke slowly but with purpose.� �Draco did not know where to begin to search
for the sword.� He thought potter must
have it � Dumbledore would surely have left it to him.� I have used � ��

Voldemort held up one hand to still him for a moment.� �Draco...� he said quietly.�� The blond head rose hopefully.�

Hermione wanted to tell him that that voice didn�t promise
hope.�� He wasn�t calm � he was thinking
about doing something cruel again.� He
had that faint anticipatory expression.� Don�t
trust it!�

�Perhaps you might be interested to know that the mudblood
in the cage is feeling sorry for you.�
She...pities... you� Voldemort
said softly, almost understandingly.�
Draco�s eyes burned suddenly and his face twisted in frustrated
rage.�� He looked over at her with an
expression of disgust and hate but remained silent.� Voldemort smiled wanly.�

�If you wish to go and�
...thank her... for her tender concern for you... I will allow it.��

Draco fairly leapt
up and reached her cage in half a second.��

The Crucio was worse than she had imagined even after seeing everyone screaming
and twisting under it.�

She heard herself screaming as if
from far away; she was simply unable to prevent her body from writhing and
fighting and clenching in agony.� It felt
worse than anything she�d ever experienced.�

As if her nerves were being dissected with white hot
scalpels... as if her muscles were being flayed layer by layer, tightened on a
rack.�

Her internal organs seemed to be boiling... tearing... her eyeballs were on fire... were full of
needles... everything hurt.�

Everything hurt.�

She wanted it to stop.�

Anything for it to stop.�

Anything, anything, just stop!!�

It went on forever.�

She thought she must die soon.� The body couldn�t possibly sustain this much
pain.�

But it went on and on.��

�Enough.�� Voldemort�s
cold voice was like a balm from heaven.�
Draco reluctantly ended the curse a second later.�

The pain didn�t stop though.� Everything ached.

Her muscles burned and she couldn�t stop herself from sobbing helplessly and
clutching at herself, trying to stop the horrible nauseating ache in her
abdomen.� �

And she was thirsty.� So
thirsty!�

At least when Voldemort ignored her completely, she
generally received water once a day and she wasn�t cruciated.�

Voldemort must have indicated for Blaise to go on because
the boy continued speaking.� He knew how
to find the sword.� She stopped
listening.� Didn�t care
any longer. �She tried to go to
sleep but it hurt too much.� Blaise
finished speaking and Voldemort placed him in charge and some time afterward,
after he�d tossed a few insulting remarks at Draco and the others, he sent them
off.�

She didn�t move.� Didn�t even bother trying to open her eyes.� Everything should just stay perfectly still
and then eventually the pain would stop.�

She had seen Draco get up again and kneel.� Professor Snape too.
Quite a lot of people suffered a cruciatus and then a few minutes later they were
at least capable of dragging themselves up to some extent.�

But it hurt!� She would just stay exactly
as she was until it stopped.��

The click of the cage door startled her and the flinch made
all her muscles protest again anew and started a new chain reaction of burning
and aching.�

�You provoked me to do that� the strange light voice
informed her.�

She disagreed vehemently but didn�t care in the slightest right now.� If she didn�t do anything now then maybe he�d
go away and she could just wait for this sensation to stop.�

A hand on her upper arm made her whimper and try to shy
away, and then yelp in pain.

�Shhhh... shhhh...��

The hand withdrew and then she felt herself levitated.�

The pressure of the ground against half her body dropped away and the muscles
beneath pricked painfully in sharp pins and needles as they ached.� It only made her try to clamp tighter into a
foetal position, which in turn only made everything ache and burn again.� She tried to remain still.�

Nothing seemed to happen for a while.� She wondered whether Voldemort had gone �
left her levitating in her cage to recover and gingerly cracked her eyes.�

She was in his bedroom.�

She hovered a few inches over the bed.�

Her heart sank.�

Oh god... no...�� Please
no.� Don�t... no... If he wanted to have
sex now... while the slightest move was painful...� If he tried to touch her... she couldn�t!�
Just thinking about it made everything hurt more in response. ��

He wasn�t within her field of vision.� She closed her eyes again and prayed that he wouldn�t do
anything.� She�d never believed in any
religion.� It seemed a bit unnecessary
and illogical � but if there should
happen to be any higher power looking over things � she begged it to help
her.��

�Drink this� the high breathy voice instructed from behind
her, making her flinch.�

She hated it when he was behind her and she couldn�t see his
expression or posture.�

A hand entered her field of vision when she opened her eyes,
holding a short diamond shaped phial of purple fluid.� When she didn�t move, the snow white hand
placed the glass lip of the little bottle to her lips and slowly tipped
it.�

She was so thirsty that she drank it greedily, not even caring what it
was.� It was wet.�

It tasted like chalk and left sediment in her mouth.�

�Swallow everything� Voldemort ordered in a non-negotiable
manner.��

She tried.��

She felt even thirstier now.��

The hand returned holding a tall glass of icy water.� The outside of the glass was sweating little
pearls of liquid.� She looked at it
longingly and tentatively unwrapped one hand,
whimpering and trying to reach for the glass.�
She needed water.�

A straw materialised in the glass and it came closer. �She sucked on it frantically.�

�Slowly� he admonished.�

She felt his other hand stroke over her hair gently.� It felt almost proprietorial.�

She couldn�t drink slower - she was still so thirsty.� It was like a breath of air after coming up
from underwater.�

�Slowly!� �He
commanded more sharply.�

When she didn�t obey he pulled the glass away.�

She winced, gasping for air, and tried to reach for it again.� �Please...� she begged.�

Fingertips stroked her face lightly.�
�No.� Breathe.� I will allow you to have some more
soon.��

She watched agonised as the condensation coated glass, still as full as when it
had been first lowered, was raised and left her view.�

The aching sensation had diminished slightly. �

Voldemort walked around the bed and sat down facing away
from her.� She looked at the back of the
pale smooth head.� The black robes he
wore today had a faint pattern in the weave.�

She hadn�t noticed.� She hadn�t been
looking at him today.�

�No.� You were
watching the Malfoy whelp� he said coldly.��

She frowned slightly and whispered hoarsely �His screams
woke me up!� It was hard to ignore.� I haven�t seen him in months.� I wasn�t...thinking he was handsome or
anything.� He just looked so miserable...and
afraid� ��

He tilted his head and she had the feeling that he might be
rolling his eyes.�

�I am fully aware of what you were thinking.��

He lowered his head and sighed slightly and then turned,
climbing onto the bed properly and dragging himself up to lean against the
headboard, one knee raised.�

He looked at her and tilted his head.�
She wasn�t sure what mood he was in.�
His expression was not familiar.�

He curled his fingers slowly and she floated closer to him.�

When she hung in the air inches away from him, he stroked
her head again.�

�I rather like your hair...� he said distractedly.� �Particularly in thick coils like this.� he
wound his long slender fingers in the ringlets.�
After a moment he added, looking slightly perturbed �perhaps I should
not have allowed Draco to curse you. ��

She felt a strange sensation flicker through her mind, like a breeze. It abated
again, nothing seemed to have happened.�

�How do you feel now?� he asked softly and almost sounded
like he cared.�

�A little better.� she offered uneasily.�

�Good.� I will lower you to the bed
carefully.� Relax��

The mattress brushed against her and then pressed harder,
setting off a faint ache.� After a while
it subsided somewhat.� His fingers
returned to her curls and toyed again.� �

She licked her lips slightly and wondered whether he was in a good enough mood for her to risk asking for the water again.�

Apparently so � Since he summoned it and lengthened the
straw, lowering the glass until the straw could reach her.�

�Slowly this time� he said in a warning voice.�

She sucked at the straw as soon as he put it to her lips and
closed her eyes, urgently needing more and trying to drink slowly so that he wouldn�t
take it away again.�

�You�ll throw it up if you drink too quickly... and if that
happens - the potion, which you have diluted by mixing it with so much water,
will be gone too and your pain will take much longer to fade.��

She nodded thirstily.�
Her stomach was telling her that she was full but her throat was
parched.�

The straw was removed and she opened her eyes and looked for it longingly.

Crimson eyes frowned at her reprovingly.� �You have had enough now.��

He placed the glass on the bedside table and then turned and lowered himself,
till he could lie level with her and turn his face toward hers.� She looked back at the flat serpentine face
warily.�

It was another strange expression he wore.�
She hadn�t seen it on him in the great hall before.�

He moved closer still and then he carefully put an arm over
her.�

Fear flared up like a lighted match thrown onto dry
straw.� No.� Don�t!�
He couldn�t want...that... now, surely?�
He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheekbone, his hand stroking over the
lavender crepe of the dress on her back.�
�You would deny me?�� He murmured low.�

She panicked.�

He did!� He wanted that.� Now!�

�please..� she whispered.� �Please don�t!��

The pale face twisted into a faint smirk.� �You beg so prettily my dear.� Soon enough you will be begging me to take
you again.� Pleading
with me to put out the fire inside.��
His hand swept her curls back from her face and he half sighed.�

�I find myself...possessive... of you...
of your mind.� Your...attention...� Today you did not look at me.�� The crimson eyes narrowed but it didn�t seem
he was exactly angry at her...

�Your heart wept for that useless spoiled little creature. �I...missed the weight of your eyes... the
strange little preoccupations of your mind.�
You slept most of the day.��

�Perhaps I was particularly harsh toward the younger Malfoy purely in order to
wake you.��

Hermione tried to stay perfectly still.� This was insane. �Lord Voldemort did not do or not do things
because he wanted the attention of a mudblood.�
That was just a ridiculous thought.�

He kissed her suddenly, his tongue forcing her lips to part
and delving into her mouth.� He tasted of
apple, incongruently enough.�

She responded, moving her timid tongue against his, wondering when he ate.� She had never seen him eat or drink anything. And Apple?!..� It was a fresh, crisp taste.� She was hungry.�

Her stomach ached sharply, growling and she felt him smile through the
kiss.�

She wouldn�t have put it past him to have eaten purely to be cruel.�

He drew back and frowned.

�I eat.��

He kissed her again lingeringly and murmured against her lips �and drink...��

He brushed his face along hers and whispered next to her ear �I sleep...��

�I do not do any of these things purely
to torture you, Hermione.��

She felt his hand steal to the top of her back and then the
sound of the zip being drawn down was loud.�

�Say my name.� he commanded softly, his lips moving feathery
light against her ear. �I want to hear it carried on your voice.��

She bit her lip.� She didn�t
want to.� She couldn�t say it to
him.� She could say it in the Gryffindor
common room when everyone else was pale and muttering about you know who...

but it was like whistling when you pass a graveyard.�

It was very different when you were alone.�

Inside the locked gates.��

At three in the morning.�

And there were sounds of stone gritting against stone all around.� �

The lips whispered again, low and teasing.
�You cannot say it?��

She swallowed and tried. �L... Lo..�
her voice faded away to nothing as the fear stole it.�

The zip had stopped and his fingers slid into her opened
dress to stroke silkily up and down her back.�

�If you cannot say my name... what will you responds when
you are asked to whom you belong?��

Something inside clenched at that.� She didn�t
belong to him!� Harry would come.� He would save her!�

Unexpectedly this defiant little thought didn�t draw the immediate punishment
she had expected.� Voldemort snorted,
amused.�

�He will come. Eventually.�� He conceded.�

�Nevertheless... you are mine.� You will always be mine
now.� Until I free you
from this world.��

And really... why would you wish Harry
to save you from me?��

He does not want you.� Has
never even seen you.��

None of them have � they have seen only a bookish little swot with bushy hair
who can assist them to pass their classes.��

�When he comes, he will be coming for me, not to save you.� He has already accepted your loss.�� Believe me - I feel his mind; his heart.��

�Oh...You are mourned.� Mourned as one who is
already dead.� �

�He is not planning your rescue, Hermione.� He is planning a daring attack to kill me so
that he might return home, banishing the responsibility of the wizarding
world�s fate from his mind and settle down with that insipid little Weasley
girl.��

�He desires only to have an undemanding, mundane life and a house full of
squalling brats.��

�Even if he managed,
through some strange twist of fate, to rescue you � he would drift away from
you.� You would remind him too much of
his guilt... guilt for leaving you here.�
Abandoning you. �Not even attempting
to rescue you before it was too late.��

�Six months you sat, unharmed and waiting; hoping...��

�Do you know � he hoped
you were dead, Hermione.� He considered
it a mercy that you were muggleborn � imagining you might have been killed
quickly.� He dreams and longs for
Ginevra.��

Hermione closed her eyes in misery.� Cruel.�� He was so cruel.� Why did he have to...? �

The thin lips pressed against her own again and persisted until she gave up and
kissed back.�

He drew away again, slowly and his voice was soft and
seductive.�

�But I want you, Hermione.� I have selected you over every witch in the wizarding world.�

�Have you any idea of the honour I have bestowed upon
you?!� I desire you.� I am willing to teach you. I have taken you for my own.��

She felt a traitorous little worm of temptation twist in her
gut.� �He is a liar. Remember what a good
liar he is.� He said only yesterday that
he was going to kill me.�� All of this is
just to hurt Harry.� All
of this. And if it wasn�t. Its monstrous.� He is evil.
�He just said two minutes ago that he
cruciated Draco just to wake me up.�
There are no words for this.��

The strange face looked at her with anger that twisted
almost immediately into something like frustration.�

�Do you imagine that if I curse you now, I shall not take
you again?� That you will be returned to
your cage?� Killed perhaps?� Is that the purpose behind this
provocation?��

The hand on her back slid up and fisted itself into her hair
and he kissed her hard, bruising her mouth as he forced her to yield.�� He didn�t let her go this time.� A tingle of magic vanished
the lavender gown and he forced her down onto her back, his silky robe cool
against her skin.�

She yelped into his mouth as her body protested the movement, the partial
compression.�

He didn�t pause for a moment and a hand slid down her body,
cupping her ribs and delving into the small of her back to hold her, just above
the swell of her buttocks.� She didn�t
even struggle.

Couldn�t even
struggle.� It hurt to try to
move.�

It hurt to be touched.� It hurt to lie
still but it had been almost
tolerable when she was lying on her side and he wasn�t touching her too much.�

Hot tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes.�

�Mmmm� he growled, sucking on her
tongue and then he pulled back to look down at her appraisingly.�

�You really should apply yourself more diligently to learning how to please me,
my dear.� You would not be in this pain
if you had not behaved in an intolerable manner.� I might be more...delicate... with you right
now if you had not spat my generosity back at me.��

He lifted his hand beneath her slightly and she cried out in
pain.� Lifting there caused a large
number of muscles to protest urgently, cramping and pulling.�

�Please!� Please...� she choked out.�

He smirked.�

�My name, Hermione...��

�Please!!� �Lord Voldemort.Please!!� she wailed. �In her mind she screamed �stop!� Stop... it hurts... please stop.��

The planar face smiled, satisfied and lowered her the
perhaps two inches that made the difference between tolerable and intolerable
pain. �

�Better...� Now... to whom do you belong?��

She bit her tongue.�
The fingers on her lower back stroked meaningfully.�

�I assure you -� that
pain was nothing in comparison to what you will feel if I hang you by your
wrists now..��

She blinked away the tears and whispered �you.� I belong to you.�

He smiled approvingly.

�And what would you say if it were another
asking that question?��

She grit her teeth.�

�I....belong to...to...L-Lord Voldemort� she
ground out.�

He kissed the corner of her mouth gently.�

�Very good, Hermione!� I know
how difficult that was for you, in light of your errant...views...�� I believe I may reward you for your effort if you
are able to say it again - without gritting your teeth.�

She sighed and said it quietly, tonelessly.� She�d already said it once.� What difference did it make now?! �

It seemed to be enough.� His expression
was that of subdued triumph.�

The hand at her back shifted and he hissed something in parsel, his eyes
narrowing nastily.�

She screamed as it seemed like he�d lit her back on fire.�

The hand at the base of her spine seemed to be sending crackling jolts into
her.� Was this the reward? �

�Yesss� he hissed softly, bending
his head to kiss along her jaw.� �A
reward...� I think we shall both find it... rewarding...�� He kissed down to her neck and then trailed
his tongue down it.� She shivered
helplessly and it made all her muscles twinge again.� But it was different now. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But for some reason now it
also felt kind of...good... when it hurt.�

She moved experimentally.�
The muscles in her abdomen and lower back twanged in sudden pain and she
gasped because it felt... it felt...

�Mmmm... I see you�ve determined
the purpose of that particular spell.��
He murmured against her neck and bit her sharply.�

She moaned, cutting herself off and biting her lips in horror.� The chest above her shook slightly in quiet
laughter.�

�Be a good girl, and perhaps I might whip you...� He whispered
and nipped her earlobe.�

She tried to lie still.�
If she moved, she�d feel it again and...It wasn�t good.�

Well.� It... kind
of was good but it wasn�t good to
find it good.�

This wasn�t a good thing.�

He might curse her again just to use the spell.�

He was nibbling his way down the side of her neck, gently... almost
patiently.� As if he knew how hard she
was finding it to ignore the arousing sensation and wanted to see how long she
would hold out.� �

As it turned out � not very long.�

When he started to lick her breasts, she twitched and that
set off a whole chain reaction of sharp delicious twinges through her muscles
till she was panting and writhing in excitement.� She was dimly aware of his dark delight as he
watched her groan and stimulate herself with little
bucking movements, arching her back.�

God... it was so...good. Like...
scratching an itch in some sick way.��
She needed more! �It wasn�t
enough.� She was moving more, to make the
frissons of painful pleasure stronger but she needed... more...�

�Beg.� he instructed coldly. �You know what you want. I may give it to you if you beg
nicely.��

She whined in the back of her throat and whispered. �Please.��

He snorted. �You call that begging?� You can do better than that.��

She curled and then stretched her legs, groaning as the
amazing sensation seemed to make her pussy ache... her spine tingle...

�Please...� what did he want?!� He wanted
his name before.� Fine.
Whatever. Just more!! �He liked
hurting people.� It wasn�t as if it was
going out of his way to just hurt her a little.�

�Please... Lord Voldemort��

�My Lord� he corrected her smoothly.�

It constituted another little step in the direction she did not want to go but
she was frustrated and needy and just in this particular second she didn�t
bloody care.

�My Lord then!� Please!!��

He looked undecided whether to credit her grudging use of
the term.�� Leaning down he pressed her
body flat with his own clothed one and held her still.�

She growled in frustration, trying to move.

��Attitude,
mudblood.� Never for a moment
forget that I can deliver more suffering than your mind...or body... can
handle.��

�Now... shall we try that appellation again?��

She huffed frustrated.�
�I don�t want to call you
that.� I�m not a death eater.� I don�t want to be one.��

He snarled slightly. �And yet you will do so, because I demand it.��

She scowled and clenched her eyes shut.� �My
Lord� she said unhappily.�

He made her repeat it.� And then repeat
it again.� She was commanded to say it so
often that the words started to lose all meaning, becoming simply sounds.� She must have eventually satisfied whatever
inflection he was looking for because his weight was removed without warning
and then pain seared her entire body.�
She yowled and gasped ecstatically and then it became so much greater as
her wrists were snapped together with some kind of spell, bound with a thin
painful cord (some variant of the incarcerous) and dragged up, pulling her
after them till she was hanging by them, kneeling in the centre of the
bed.�

Her head fell back in excited overstimulation and she looked up at the cord
binding her to the metal loop in the crossbeams of the bed.��

It did evoke so much more pain to be
in this position.� He hadn�t lied
earlier.�

She panted and writhed against the binding that was just slightly too tight...
too high... stretching her and straining her muscles so satisfyingly.��

�Beautiful...� he pronounced softly, from somewhere behind
her.� She tried to turn and gave up,
bucking excitedly at the pain it caused.�
�Would you like to be whipped?� he enquired in a generous tone, as if
offering her a particular treat.��

She nodded slowly, realising she would.�

Surreal.� She could have sworn she would never actually
find herself asking Lord Voldemort to whip her � wanting him to.��

His silence demanded the correct response.�

�Yes... please... My Lord� she hushed out circling her hips
for the amazing feeling it caused in her back.�

He was suddenly pressed close behind her; his cheek against
her own and his hand sliding down to tease her pussy.� She moaned wantonly, loving it against her
own will.� He turned his head and bit her
earlobe sharply, growling and it only made her wriggle on his fingers even more
yelping in pleasure.� A moment later he
melted away again behind her, trailing damp fingers over her skin as he
withdrew.�

�Very well...my lovely debauched pet.� I will give you what you need.��

There was a slithery sound and then he leaned forward and
held a coiled leather horsewhip out in front of her so that she could see
it.� He let the loops fall, holding the
handle and it made a leathery slithery sound as it uncoiled onto the bed, like
the one she�d heard.�

She shivered in anticipation.�

How much would it hurt?!�
Was it possible for something to hurt too much right now?�

�Difficult to say.� I believe not. This is a very dangerous
spell.� Salazar experimented with it
extensively.� Left to their own devices,
those affected not infrequently ended up accidentally injuring themselves
severely - some even killing themselves.��

�That will not happen to you.� I will determine the pain you shall
receive.��

There was a whistle, a crack and then a bright incandescent
lightning bolt of pain lanced up her back.�
She cried out in shock.�

It burned a moment later and she groaned and writhed, trying to rub her thighs
together to get friction where she needed it.�

Another crack sounded and her arousal ramped up even higher.� By the fifth one she was crying out in
desperate lust and begging him to touch her.�

He ignored it.�

Searing slice after slice struck her in quick succession.
She could barely breathe for the sensation and the blinding urgent need.�

She needed him to fuck her.� She needed
him inside her.��

How?!� How to get him
to stop... how to get him to come close and take her how she wanted to be
taken.�

She scrambled through her lust addled mind for the words that he might
like.��

He angled the next blow and the tongue of the whip licked around
the side of her hip, catching the sensitive skin above her pubic mound.� She gasped and tried to grind against air,
ineffectually.� Struggling at the
bindings was no use.� The next stroke
wrapped itself around her thigh, cutting into the sensitive flesh on the
inside.�

�Master!!� I need you... please...� she wailed
desperately.�

The next blow did not come.�

She whined aloud, her pussy was tingling and sucking in aching need.�

�What do you need, Hermione� the voice was close. He was
right behind her.�

�I...I need you inside
me... please...My Lord� she managed and tried to press herself back against
him.� She couldn�t reach him or he moved
away.

�Is that so...� he said softly.�

She yowled her assent, winding her hips and parting
her thighs.� If he could only...touch her...
and then he did.� A hot hard naked form pressed up against her
back and arse.� She cried out in relief.

�Yes!� Please My Lord!
Now!! �Need you... oh god...PLEASE...��

His breath was hot against her neck as his hands slid around
her.� Fingernails scraping down her flesh
deliciously as he reached down toward her thighs, gliding inward.� Then, gripping her roughly he gapped her
thighs further apart and lifted her slightly.�

She eagerly complied with his rough guiding hands and arched her back, pushing
her buttocks back against him.� A moment
later he drove up and into her, spearing her and bottoming out in a painful
wonderful way.�

She screamed in something that was both relief and
heightened need, her hands above her head gripping the cords as her head fell
back.� His hands were on her hips and he
was fucking her brutally and it was the best thing ever.

She moved her hips in counterpoint, driving herself back onto him as far as she
was able in her unbalanced position.� He
leaned forward and hissed next to her ear and she shuddered all over.� Yes... she found she really did like that
sound. It was so different to the few times she�d heard Harry do it. With
Voldemort it sounded smooth, silky, dangerous and...Yes...
sexy.� It sounded bloody sexy when he
spoke in parseltongue.

He lifted her and pulled her back, tilting her and holding
her in place till she wrapped her legs around him.� The tension in her muscles felt like tense
vibrating strings connected to her clit.�

His movements slowed and became languid as he supported her there with only one
hand, the other stroking lightly up her spine.�
�Lovely...� he murmured huskily.�

�Harder� she whimpered at his slow smooth movements.�

�You require more pain?� his voice was full of dark lust.

�YES!!� she whined.�
�Please!!� Please don�t stop!! I
need... more!��

His quick breaths caught for a moment and then he leaned in
and licked a hot path up the side of her neck.�
She moaned low and rocked her hips against him.� �Very well� he whispered by her ear.�

The hand at her back suddenly became so cold it burned
sharply.� She could feel it leaving raised weals in its wake and squealed and jerked at
the satisfying feeling. it seemed to soothe the fire
in her slightly even as it tingled pleasurably.

�God...thats so good� she mumbled, her eyes closed in
bliss as she writhed on his cock.� He
started to fuck her harder again, his fingers stroking over her skin, trailing
over her stretched abdomen, up and over her breasts.

When he pinched her nipple she screamed and felt herself tipping over
unexpectedly into her climax.� His low
groan seemed to only increase the pleasure.�
She felt him still moving in her slowly as she spasmed.

He only waited, circling his hips and sliding in and out languorously, until
her excited cries stilled, before he resumed fucking her harder in short
staccato slams, that stabbed her deep inside.��

Against her expectation the boneless inertia that overcame
her in the wake of an orgasm was forced aside as he pushed her to excited need
again; tipped her only minutes later over the edge again with deep plunging
strokes.� �She collapsed down onto the bed as the cords
binding her wrists were abruptly vanished.�

This angle seemed to give him even greater leverage to slam
into her as her face lay down against the mattress and her arse was held raised
by him.� He leaned over her and drove her
forward with the force of his thrusts.�

She could hear him panting softly and curled around to peer over her
shoulder.�

His eyes were half lidded and he had an expression of intense satisfaction on
his face as he fucked her.� He looked...strangely
appealing.� His abdominal muscles were
tight and bunched and the pale skin shimmered with a sheen
of moisture.�

As if he heard her thought � which he probably had � he stopped in his movements and
withdrew, pushing her over till she lay on her back and then falling upon her
like a hungry animal.�

He slotted back into her body automatically and curled his arms around her, one
beneath her neck and the other in the small of her back.�

When he kissed her she responded immediately, kissing him
back hungrily, wrapping her arms and legs around him and moving against the
wonderful teasing strokes.� �Mmmm� he growled into her mouth, and it managed to convey
that he was pleased with her.�

She broke away panting and mindless in the face of the sensations
her body was reporting and only dimly registered the word he breathed almost
tenderly against her throat because it had taken on a visceral importance in
her hindbrain.

�Crucio...�

�The pain was unreal! She screamed and came
so hard that she blacked out for a moment.�
It was as if the volume on her pleasure had been turned up to sonic boom
levels.�

When she returned to herself he was kissing along her jaw
gently and pressed a soft breathless kiss to her swollen lips.�

He had come.� He was still inside her and
she could feel the hard bar of him softening slowly.�

But even without that sensation, it was just as clear in the relaxation of the
normally tense line of his body above her.�

She continued to catch her breath and curled around him again.� The pain of moving was still arousing but now
she was exhausted and it was terrible to feel her body tingling back into
response helplessly.�

A hand stroked her hair away from her face.� �If I remove it, you will be in greater pain
than you were before. I do not know if you can withstand that at present.�

She looked up into glimmering red garnets that shifted,
examining her speculatively.� She had no
idea what she wanted.� She was just...tired...
It didn�t make any sense to speculate.�
He would do whatever he liked.� He
probably knew best at this point anyway.�

She had no idea how this spell worked and little experience with cruciatus
after-effects.�

Internally she gave herself up to his will.�

A slow lazy smile broke out on the pale flattened face.
�Finally you are displaying the correct attitude, Hermione.�� He murmured against her cheek.�

He withdrew with effortless strength she herself did not
feel at present and moved off gracefully, still naked, toward the
bookcases.�

She thought he was going to retrieve a tome by hand for her at first but as he
drew near he waved a hand and the bookcase slid forward and to the side,
revealing what seemed to be a small store room.�
He strode in and turned a sharp right angle disappearing around a
corner.�

There were a few soft clinks and then he was returning.� He had another purple phial in his white
slender-fingered hand.�

She could not help but look at his body, take in the entire
view of Lord Voldemort, unashamedly naked and, with the exception of his facial
features and general hairlessness, beautifully formed.�

His thighs were long, the lean hard muscle clearly defined.�

Halfway back to the bed he stopped in place, smirking and turned on the spot,
as if displaying himself for her viewing pleasure. �

She hadn�t really had the opportunity to study him from
behind, she realised.� He was...peculiarly...
more attractive from this side.� One
could forget the unsettling aspects of his face.�

His back was broad and the entire visage from head to toe was toned and
taut.� ...he...he had quite a nice
backside, she conceded.� If you were into that kind of thing... mens
bum�s and all.�

He turned back again and walked back to the bed, still wearing the small
pleased smirk.�

Sitting down beside her he stroked a fingertip down her
body, noting her helpless reaction and the quickening of her breath.�

�Captivating...� I am
exceedingly pleased with you, Hermione. ��For that reason I will reward you.��

He removed the tiny glass stopper in the phial and brought
it to her lips, tilting it when she was ready.�
She swallowed the chalky sour mouthful eagerly, as if it were mother�s
milk.�

His fingers stroked her face again lightly.�

�Please could I have some water� she asked hopefully.� He had allowed her to have water last time
she had been given the potion.�

He seemed to consider it and then shook his head
slowly.� �No. This time I wish you to
absorb the potion undiluted, my dear.�
Don�t fret.� You will not be awake
to feel thirst, and I will have the house-elves hydrate you in an hour or
so.� You will be refreshed when you
wake.��

She accepted this without demur.� Sleep would be good.� He was ...kind... to let her sleep now...so
that she wouldn�t feel that horrible aching pain again.

�Thank you... My Lord� she said solemnly.�
He smiled again and leaned over her, kissing her lips gently.� She felt his hand brush her forehead and then
sleep descended like a thick velvet blanket.
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Captive Audience