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Dance Magic Dance	By : GoblinKingDraco Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 6750 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Labyrinth and I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
The onyx collar gleamed in the pale stalagmite glow. Draco circled his price as she dozed peacefully in his bed. The black satin cast a dark contrast against the blood red pillows and down duvet she rested under. He sighed, running his pale long fingers through her tangled curly locks.

Under the covers, she was bare. HIs cock hardened the moment he entered his room. It was almost too easy to clasp the necklace of subjugation on. She stiffened in her slumber, then relaxed without a care in the world. His grin widened. He would have his satisfaction, his prize.

“Aguamenti!” He spoke flicking his wrist at her.
The splash of water awoke the sleeping beauty with a start.

Grasping, shocked and soaking wet she spluttered,

“You won didn’t you?”
Her response was so soft and calm, he almost lost his turgid erection. However, the anticipation was far too strong, he cast a drying charm on his bed,

“Yes Granger, I bested your weasel. I got to play using my rules, in my world. Father always said that I could have whatever I wanted, my own kingdom will suffice. And you, my first mistress, you should be honoured.”

Smug as always. If her head didn’t hurt so bad, Hermione would have punched that look right off his face, again.
She was just so...tired. She felt powerless. A weight hung from her neck, it’s vacuum like power made her nauseous and unable to move very well. Helpless, she tried hoisting herself off the plush mattress.

His bulk stopped her, and her nakedness startled her. His lean, bare chest advanced towards her, as she scooted towards the headboard of the bed, trapped. The bulge in his silk sleep pants very apparent.

She tried throwing herself off the bed as she got closer, tried crying, screaming, but she couldn’t get louder then a whisper, she had nothing left inside to fight this monster. Why couldn’t Jareth help? Why did Ron forsake her? Why her?

The rustle of fabric and surge of moving air brushed over her pink nipples, making the rosy buds stand on point. She swore his grin grew impossibly large. More fabric moved as she witnessed him shed his pants. There he was, his member, impressive, long and thick, threatening her innocence and to her fuzzy mind, very existence,

He easily pushed himself between her creamy thighs, slithering to her sacred spot like the snake he was. She felt his hardness push against her core, seeking entrance. He said nothing to her, ignoring to hateful look in her eyes. She couldn’t even cry as he effortlessly held down her squirming legs.
“YOU ARE MINE!” He plunged deep inside her without a warning.

Her back arched as her breasts met his chest. He heard her cry out at the his intrusion. His dick pulsed inside her dry cunt, wanting more. She wailed now, begging him to stop his assault. He didn’t even notice now as his hips bucked violently on their own. Pumping into his cunt, yes his, won it fair and square. Her incoherent screeches meant nothing to him. Her pussy gripped him tight, lubricating his cock against her will.

He grasped her breast, kneading it for his own pleasure, the plump flesh molding, then hesitating under his rough caress. She murmured again, but he didn’t hear, he could only feel. The hateful look was invigorating, her eyes began to glass over and her whimpers began to die down. No, that wouldn’t do. She would suffer.

She screamed in her head, she screamed so loud Merlin could have heard her in the afterlife. He hit her hard across the face, her body jerking limply with every thrust he made.

She just twitched and closed her eyes, hoping it would be over soon. A fire burned where his cock rubbed hard against her tender insides. His attack on her breasts hurt something awful and he didn’t care. Right as she was ready to pass out, he grabbed her by the hips and flipped her over.

Still hard as a rock Malfoy pulled her to her hands and knees and jabbed into her sopping pussy once again. The new angle and absolute humiliation caused Hermione to jerk away, shrieking uncharacteristically and shrilly into the dim lit chamber. She was sobbing violently now, a warm sensation began to build in her belly. HE started to gently stroke her clit, the tiny red bulb no one ever cared about. A pressure began to build and her knees wobbled, she collapsed head first, only her forearms supporting her as her forced orgasm crashed around her.

She was perfect, he watched her come undone with with simple flick of her clit. His balls clenched in an unseeming victory and he drove into her with a renewed vigor. She was powerless, he held her fate in his hands. He towered above her, dominating her with every brutal thrust. His pace sped up and he saw her stifle her moans in the thick duvet, With a final thrust he quickly pulled out of her cunt, coating her with a stream of his pure blood seed. He was finally sated.

She couldn’t take it anymore, feeling his sticky essence spray all over her, she lurched over the side of the bed and threw up bile, all that she had left.

She was covered in his cum. Strings of spittle covering her face from when she had wretched. Her skin was red and welted where he had gripped her. She was beautiful.

He vanished her puddle of sick off the floor then promptly flicked his wrist. She went limply tumbling to the floor. It was almost pathetic how she lie there with her chest heaving and her eyes glassy from unshed tears and disbelief.

With the ounce of sympathy he had left, he threw down a blanket to her.

She was shivering from the cold, the humiliation and oddly enough his rejection. She crawled over to the dog bed like cushion she assumed was for her and curled up. Holding herself trying to ignore the throbbing in her cunt and the ache in her heart.

“It's going to take a lot more than that to break a witch with power that magnitude.”
Machiavelli vanished the cum off his full length mirror and righted his robes. The boy king Draco Malfoy did put on a marvelous show. Of course he didn't know he had an audience.

The unwanted spectator flexed his freed wrists. Still grateful for being freed of the chains and shackles. After Draco had freed him, he craved some much needed r&r. His dark power filled his new lair with a suffocating presence.

“Jonx.”
He called.

The little goblin poked his head into his master’s chambers.

“You've served me well. The goblin king was non the wiser. I have a new task for you now.”
Jonx’s watery eyes shone with the praise and fully stepped into the room.

“Yes master, what is your bidding?”

The goblin suddenly found himself writhing on the floor in pain. Her yelps and yimmers silenced by his torturer. Bones snapped and healed. Skin tore than mended. His spine stretched and with a sickening crunch, the new Jonx was remade, a pile of now human agony on the dirt floor.

Machiavelli knelt down and stroked the boy’s dark damp hair. Sweat beading on his handsome tanned face.

“Welcome back Marius. Here is what you must do…”
- 8
- 9
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Dance Magic Dance