The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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8-29-09 Sat

For those of you (yes, I see one or two heads nodding) waiting for a lemon, we have arrived. Free lemonade for all.


Answers to comments -


pittwitch – I imagine Lucius hopes Hermione will become more to him, seeing her now as his own wife. Malfoys protect their own. Hermione, however, is confounding his protective instincts with her resistance, confusing and annoying him.

lilbitbord – I let Lucius know you would do anything he wants. He went right to his toy box. I hope you like blindfolds and feathers... and Lucius.

katiekrm – Lucius sees Hermione both as part of a plan, but also as his wife, whom he hopes will be more a match for his temperament than Narcissa ever was. This version of Lucius did feel superior to Muggleborns, not because of their blood but because they hadn’t any power or status in the wizarding world. It had mostly belonged to the Purebloods. Rich people usually feel superior to the poor in any world and Lucius and his ilk were no different. Things changed with the war and he’s changing with the times. He is very pragmatic as he explained in chapter three. You want Lucius to be kinder and sweeter - can you wait until he and Hermione interact more? Right now this IS all about what he wants. Have some faith in Hermione. Has she let you down in the past? She’s no shrinking violet, but neither is she being kind and sweet to Lucius.

BeaBibliophile – Yes, Lucius and Hermione have a long way to go – they aren’t going to be a cozy couple overnight; their values and current goals are too divergent. Part of this tale is how that changes and part has to do with the execution of Lucius’ and Snape’s plan (yeah, yeah, I haven’t tossed that out there yet). I appreciate your understanding that these two are still like oil and vinegar (Hermione is the vinegar and Lucius can be kinda oily). I’ll mix them up and make a great salad dressing but it will take time. I do love your description of their marriage as being full of, “prejudices, misunderstanding, and character flaws”. It did make me laugh that you want the story to progress at its own pace, then say that Lucius not talking to Hermione has bothered you for ages. In answer, he’s not around most of the time. His financial problems keep him very much occupied. (More plan creeping in there…) Anyway, thank you for your lovely, explanatory review. 8-)

Aleysiasnape – Lucius feels he has to be in charge for now. Someday he wants to let go and let Hermione have more power in the bedroom, but he’s not ready for that yet. He doesn’t trust her, but he would like to.

jw – The lines of communication are easing open just a bit, but they aren’t going to be best buddies overnight. Hermione has some powerful prejudices against Lucius (mostly well-earned) that need to soften. Chain and collar coming up.

sirsevchick – What a lovely compliment – intricate plot as melody with smut as harmony. To extend the analogy, I love making Lucius and Hermione dance with each other, first in a minuet (with occasional lambadas thrown in) and progressing to a perfectly performed, beautiful waltz together. Thank you!

Snapes_Goddess – Ah, the orgy. I suspect the whole idea was for the Death Eaters to all remember in excruciating detail. Lucius is open to using whatever helps him succeed and his looks certainly qualify. It is one of his less endearing qualities in some cases. He has a softer side, but few ever see it. Let’s hope Hermione finds a way to bring it out more. I think she’s already making a start, not that most readers think so LOL. And yes, Lucius is a little fixated on his one experience of down and dirty sex where he was able to let himself go – and he has secret hopes for Hermione there, too. She is feeling more for him physically than she wants.

HarryGinny4eva – These two will move two steps forward, then one step back as they try to adjust to a marriage neither was hoping for, no matter that Lucius initiated it. Hermione will jump in with both feet and a few other body parts as she learns to at least enjoy the sex in their relationship.

Liagiba84 - LOL I watch the scroller, too, with stories I like. I’m very happy you like the story. And I hope it continues to come up to your standards. 8-)

Magalena – Lucius got his charmed leather pants at the Kink Boutique on a side street of Knockturn Alley. There aren’t any charms on the collars – I missed an opportunity there. Pooh.

black kat – One of my favorite things to write is their snarky dialogue. I’m glad you enjoy it. I agree Lucius is hot. 8-)

Serin Blackmoon – I am trying to preserve most of the canon aspects of their personalities and Snape’s, too, when he appears. BDSM is probably too official a culture for the playfully kinky sex Lucius prefers. He does hope for some more intense sex with Hermione also if they can find some common ground in the bedroom. They will learn to communicate more as they come to terms with their situation.

Abbeysmum – Lucius says he’ll bring a life-size model to your desk and it won’t even be a replica. So watch out.

ginnylovesharry07 – Hermione spank Lucius? Well, you know…that may happen…somewhere down the line. Patience is key – for Hermione and for the reader, heh, heh.

angeles – Oh yes, more to come, but in the weekly installment I fear. Apologies for the cliffie and I hope this next chapter makes up for it. And yes, of course, I am a bad girl LOL.

Scary Bear Hair - Hmm, is Hermione more incensed that Lucius knows his way around a bedroom and entices her in spite of herself – or is she more angry that he’s been with other women? I think there is going to be quite a bit of both, starting with her being drawn to a loathsome Death Eater with charisma to burn. Lucius as an honorable rogue – an oxymoron? Or is there some truth in that? Hermione will find out. I agree she is quite repressed now, but that won’t last long in his bedroom. Yay! Yes, you are reviewer #300! Hurray for YOU!! (throws confetti and streamers)

blue artemis – Lucius is immured in his study or out controlling his financial empire most of every day so time to have long conversations right now is scarce. His preoccupation has to do with why he needs the plan. It’s a fact of human nature that one can be attracted to another without liking them. Sadly. Bad boys are always the hottest - and those wicked painted hussies LOL.

marieve - Yes, I’m trying to bring the two ‘antagonists’ along in a believable manner. They won’t always be at odds, but they aren’t going to have long, heartfelt conversations instantly. Lucius isn’t even around much to talk. I’m very glad you’re happy with the progression of their difficult relationship.

And now...


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Chapter Thirteen

Hermione’s Wild Ride


It only took a slight, guiding tug of Lucius’ hand on the chain connecting his wristguard to her collar to get Hermione settled, perched on the edge of his mattress at the foot of the bed. It was vaguely startling to her not to feel the surface of the mattress on her butt because of the numbing cream, but she was relieved there was no pain.

He took up a place standing just in front of her and before she knew what he was going to do, he stepped forward and spread her knees apart, reaching down and running his hands under the backs of her knees. One quick jerk and he upended her so she landed with her back on the mattress and her thighs wide open to him.

Hermione squealed, instantly feeling at a disadvantage and she tried to skitter up the bed away from Lucius’ encroaching body, but he had no intention of losing his place between her legs and he quickly crawled up onto the bed, keeping himself between her thighs and holding them open by putting pressure on her knees.

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” his voice was quiet, his breath soughing with deep appreciation. His restraining hands on her knees began a titillating journey up the insides of her thighs, large palms hot on her tender skin, tantalizing each of them equally as he slid closer and closer to her core, the light, shimmering chain adding its own enticing slide up her thigh.

Hermione was slightly panicked at being dragged under by her husband’s undisputed sexual expertise and, trying to break the spell of his palms rolling upward, she rasped desperately, “I thought you said you didn’t use the collar as a leash. Don’t lead me,” she said, irritated at being tethered. “And don’t think you’re fooling anyone with those wristguards you’ve been wearing, Lucius. I know why you’re wearing them.”

The mood shattered. Lucius sat back on his heels and watched her thighs snap closed. He cocked his head, wondering why his little spitfire was so afraid of letting loose and reveling in the undoubtedly ferocious sparks they struck off each other.

“They aren’t meant to fool you, Hermione,” he demurred quietly, holding up both offending wrists and in the process swinging the chain over her torso. “I donned them to cover up my tattoo. I thought seeing it would upset you, just as you reacted so violently to my main drawing room. Shall I remove the wristguards?”

Hermione’s bellicose statement hung in the air between them. Suddenly the little witch crumpled and tears clogged her voice, “I’m sorry. I…I thought you were trying to hide your horrible past so I wouldn’t be reminded of what you did.” She wrapped her arms over her breasts in a protective huddle. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Lucius relaxed, “That is exactly what I did, but for your comfort, not mine. If you’re sorry, perhaps you can make it up to me by unbending a bit. I feel like I’m trying to open a giant clamshell here.” He nudged fruitlessly at her tense thighs. His jocular response eased the rancorous pit that they had fallen into and brought back their less fraught, cat-and-mouse sex game. Lucius was relieved that Hermione hadn’t mentioned the chain again in her diatribe against his wristguards - to him that was very telling. She had such potential; he smiled and it lit up his face.

Hermione blushed, her face and chest turning a rosy color. “I’m not sure I’m quite that sorry,” she replied, a hint of smile ghosting over her lips in response. Then she gasped when Lucius gave up on trying to get between her thighs and went straight for her thong, easily rolling her welded knees up toward her chest. The scrap of green lace was no proof against Lucius’ sharp tug and gave way, clearing the path for his finger to plunge into her warm, wet, unprotected center.



“Lucius!” Hermione almost giggled, but caught herself. She wasn’t ready to surrender the field, not after being physically disciplined like an unruly child and tugged onto the bed by a chain.

Lucius withdrew his digit from its moist cave and showed it to his wife, “Wet as an Irish bog. You’re right, I don’t think it’s ‘sorry’ you’re feeling. I think you’re feeling horny. Are we going to tussle over every inch of feminine territory or are you going to concede defeat and let me make you scream now rather than later? If you’re very good, I might make you scream now and later.”

Timid brown eyes met determined gray ones and Hermione gave a huge sigh. “It won’t hurt this time will it?” She didn’t really believe it would be as bad as that first time, but she was wary, anyway.

“Oh, it’s going to hurt, but this kind of hurt will be so intensely pleasurable for both of us, we’ll want to do it again and again. Open for me, Hermione. I’m so hard I could stand in for the Hogwarts flagpole.”

“Hah!” she rejoined. “You’d only fly the Slytherin banner on that stiffy of yours, but it does make an erotic visual,” she snickered. “I can see you standing on the roof tiles naked, your hair whipping in the breeze -”

“Hermione,” he groaned, “role playing later. For now, open your legs,” Lucius leaned his chest onto the barrier of her raised knees and she relaxed, letting her knees fall apart.

“Would you at least change the chain so it connects our collars?” Hermione asked. “It’s distracting the way you move your arm around.”

“You asked politely,” Lucius blinked, surprised, then he stared intently at Hermione for a minute; she got a little dazed, looking back into those pale, almost luminescent eyes. His eyes were almost hypnotic and Hermione fell silent, her mind emptying of any but a rising arousal.

Lucius knew the power of his unusual eyes and used them to gain any advantage over this intelligent little witch he could muster. He reaffixed the silvery chain so it flowed from his collar to hers. Then the blond wizard immediately settled between her thighs before she could change her mind. His thick staff took up residence over her cleft and he began a rolling, rhythmic back and forth motion, sliding against her taut, little clit and spreading her juices over them both.

Lucius’ eyelids closed to better concentrate on the hot, tender path he was guiding himself through. Was there anything better than this? He smiled. Yes, one thing better. Lucius pulled back and the crown of his pride and joy found her pixie entrance, now a little more accommodating than last time. He felt Hermione inhale a fearful breath, but he pressed inside without the previous obstruction and tightness to deal with and her body accepted his much more easily.

“It…it still hurts, Lucius,” Hermione stiffened up just a bit.

“Does this hurt, too?” Lucius adjusted his angle and scraped his swollen glans against the special spot inside that had caused Hermione to spear him with her nails the time before. He simultaneously slid his thumb against her clit with a gentle, fluttering rhythm.

“Oh! Oooh!” Hermione panted, her eyes widening with amazement. No matter how tightly she pursed her lips, she couldn’t keep her pleasure to herself and it burst free. “Oh, Gods! Yeeessss!”

Lucius assiduously applied himself to scouring the velvety head of his cock on that spot over and over while applying his thumb to her little external nubbin and the little witch became incoherent - her conversation deteriorated to assorted mewls and short screams as her body twisted with the unbearable tension of an approaching climax.

“Nooooooo!” her scream split atoms, not to mention Lucius’ eardrums, as she went over her first cliff, going rigid and bowing her back clear off the mattress.

Lucius slowed his onslaught allowing her to float in her afterglow for a few seconds as he surreptitiously ran a muting spell on his ringing ears, then murmured, “You are so easy to please, so fast to go over the edge. Did you like that hurt, my dear?” and he nipped her shoulder before meandering down to capture a taut nipple with even, white teeth. One gentle pluck presaged a firm, solid sucking, drawing Hermione back from her cloud to the possibility of another trip to paradise riding the rigid, fleshy broomstick of her spouse.


Lucius pulled himself out of her inner space for the moment, allowing them both a bit of breathing room. He took his time, wrapping his long, flexing fingers around Hermione’s soft, rosy breasts, still flushed from her orgasm, then squeezed them upward for provocative licks and little nips of their centers that elicited surprised squeaks of pleasure from the partially sated witch as his hair slithered over her sensitized chest.

She roused enough to begin combing through those beckoning platinum locks with her fingers, humming in pleasure at the long, soft tresses as she draped the pale strands over whichever nipple wasn’t being suctioned. Soon, to her greedy delight, Lucius rose over her again, slid inside and commenced sending her toward her second climax, but this time his thrusts were less measured and more forceful, striking deeper inside, his occasional deep, masculine groans of appreciation giving her the clue that he was now less concerned with catering to her.

Ironically, or maybe being experienced he had long since known it, the deeper, rougher strokes weren’t any less exciting. The chain swung wildly between her breasts, increasing her tension. Her weak remonstrations of “Lucius?” and tentative clutching of his shoulders found no response from the handsome wizard whose face was now etched with his fierce arousal, his hypnotic eyes tightly closed. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, anyway.

His very mastery of her body began slowly inciting a relentless spiral upward into a second, massive climax. Hermione could feel it rising and tried to put off the tidal wave gathering between her legs, but a feeble attempt to control his punishing pelvis with her fingernails only got her rougher treatment.

Hard, male fingers speared through her hair holding her immobile for his percussive assaults, keeping her slight body from migrating up the mattress into the headboard. “Let go, witch. Come for me. Come now!” he commanded, opening his eyes, his voice gravelly with his own excitement.

Vaguely, between erotic strokes that scattered her concentration to pieces, Hermione wondered why she had been avoiding this overwhelming, salacious scouring of her innards. Lucius wasn’t what she would ever have chosen for herself, but if she was tied to him for a mate, at least he was the Holy Grail in bed. Her woman’s body told her Ron would never have been able to achieve what this ex-Death Eater was doing to her so effortlessly. Hermione gave up and went off the cliff a second time, screaming all the way down.


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“Hermione?” Lucius’ deep voice brought her back from the peaceful ‘petite mort’ she had suffered under the wily wizard. “Sprite, let me turn you.”

“Hunh?” was the extent of her vast vocabulary for the moment. It took another few minutes for her to realize that Lucius was still buried in her, his tall body covering her from top to bottom. Her legs were caught tightly around his waist with her ankles hooked together at the small of his back. “Oh, did you want loose?”

Lucius shook his head, “No, sprite, I want to change our bodies so you’re on top. It’s your turn to direct the proceedings - and make it good,” he growled in a no nonsense voice, “I want to fall off the edge of the world like you just did.” His hair flared around their faces as he moved his head; she turned to rub her cheek into the scented softness she was coming to know intimately.

“Mmm,” she breathed in the special smell she was beginning to associate with him, “Uh, well, but I’ve never…”

“No, I didn’t think so if you couldn’t even take me inside you last week. This will be a new lesson for you. Up you go,” he encouraged, his biceps bulging with lifting his male frame off her just enough to twist them both. She unhooked her ankles from his waist and landed on top, his length still firmly within her sheath.

My Sweet Guinevere, Hermione squeezed her sensitized internal muscles to be sure, he’s still hard as a rock. “Lucius?”

“Hmmm?” He settled her on his hips, pressing her down to reseat himself firmly in the still trembling heat of her. The blond wizard impatiently stuffed several pillows behind himself to raise up in a half-reclining position, then refocused on his hesitant mate, “Think of it as riding me, my dear, rather like a hippogriff with a long, fat rod sticking up out of its back. Can you get your knees under you so you can control your upward and downward motion?”

“I…yes, I suppose so. I don’t know what to do, though. Shall I just move up and down?”

“Yes,” Lucius moaned a little as Hermione attempted the simple motion. “We’ll get creative another time. Just…oh Gods, yes, do that for now.” Lucius put his hands on Hermione’s waist and guided her for the first few times as she learned to impale herself in the rhythm he wanted. When she began to be independent, he released her waist and cupped both her breasts as they gently swayed with her movements.

With the missionary position, she’d been able to look away without making the wizard irritated because their faces were very close and Hermione could pretend she needed to move her face sideways from his flying hair. This new position brought her face to face with her handsome husband much more intimately than the missionary position had. He was a little farther away and each of them could focus on the other’s eyes more easily.

This more intimate ‘presence’ of Lucius made Hermione uncomfortable. When she was under him and could avoid looking into his eyes, it had been better. This position was bringing home the unpalatable fact that it was Lucius Malfoy spreading her legs and skewering her. It seemed bad manners to look away from him while she was balancing her palms on his pecs and gyrating on his pole, but she badly wanted to do just that. The wicked sensations running rampant through her privates and her swelling breasts as he leaned forward to suckle some more were wildly addicting, but she wanted to pretend he was someone, anyone else.

He kept eye contact as he twirled and sucked at her sensitive crests, wanting to catalog each nuance of her expression to learn what she liked best. As her gentle movements became more forceful, he reluctantly abandoned fondling the jiggling globes and instead took up the silver chain. Keeping it horizontally taut between his fists, Lucius scrubbed the links over her puckered nipples, letting her abrade them in rhythm with her jostling ride.

Hermione bit her lip at the heavenly harsh scraping of the thin silver chain over her wet, puckered nipples, the small twin abuses somehow intertwining with the jolts of pleasure each stab of his penis ignited within her womb.

As her ride became more frantic, Lucius dropped the chain and just let his eyes wander over her piquant little face as she rode him, seeing her frown in adorably fierce concentration. He smiled at that fierce, inner concentration, knowing she was now inhabiting the salacious world he most enjoyed.

Finally the wizard flopped back overwhelmed, sinking into the pillows, his sensory attention riveted solely on his groin and he momentarily closed those hypnotic eyes, blessedly releasing Hermione’s gaze. She half worried he could divine her unkind thoughts so she gratefully closed her own and just felt.

The phantasm she’d created for herself previously became the body drilling into hers and she could put the flesh and blood Lucius back into the shadows of her mind as she enjoyed the carnal expertise her shadow man so lavishly bestowed. The phantasm was gorgeous, commanding, arousing, and tender and only had his looks in common with the reality. Hermione excused herself for using her husband’s body while denying the rest of his individuality as being only what he deserved for forcing her into the marriage.

Lucius knew there was something missing somewhere as he plowed his sprite, loving the bouncing figure taking her pleasure from him. He just couldn’t put his finger on what was not quite right. He put it down to her maidenly reserve and relaxed back, closing his eyes and just feeling. Her tight, hot sheath squeezing his penis as she slid up and down was as near to heaven as he was likely to get, dead or alive. Gods, he loved sex!

He had been forced to punish her for her verbal vitriol; he sincerely hoped the next time he took his hand to her firm, little tush, it would be for mutual sexual gratification. While she hadn’t liked being reprimanded, he’d had a glimmer afterward that she wasn’t quite as opposed to the erotic overtones of sensual domination that had been subsumed under their mutual anger.

As Hermione increased the pace of her pistoning, Lucius couldn’t hold in his reaction and moans of his intense pleasure escaped, “Godssss, yes, ahhh, harder, my sweet sexy girl, yessss.” His hand rose and delivered a stiff slap to her butt on her downswing, feeling her tighten even more from the shock. “Sooo fucking tight, so sweet, ahhhh…damn, ride my cock, sprite…” Hermione didn’t object to his swat and he wanted to do it some more, so he landed one for every downstroke as she continued working him over.

Soon, the sordid slaps began to make Hermione feel so primitive she wanted to do more than ride the slippery staff impaling her. The numbing ointment was making the slaps more mellow than painful, but perversely, Lucius smacking her and encouraging her with guttural vulgarities was wildly arousing.

A blaze rose between them, fiery, consuming, burning to ashes any trace of antagonism, any shred of suspicion, any hovering shadow of prejudice for those endless moments when their bodies ruled their minds. Something both primordial and barbaric took over, controlling them both.

Without thinking, her hair whipping around her face, Hermione raked her nails down Lucius’ torso, leaving narrow, skinned tracks on his smooth ivory flesh on either side of the shifting silver chain connecting them; then as her ride got bumpier, she pinched his male nipples and twisted them. She began to keen in her extremis, nearing her prurient peak, her eyes glazed with sexual gluttony.

Hearing his wife’s high wail, Lucius suddenly came to the brink of his crisis; two strong, masculine hands grabbed and clutched the twin mounds of Hermione’s buttocks hard, unknowingly bruising the soft, feminine glutes, but Hermione was far too aroused to care. Lucius slammed her down onto his pelvis and clamped her there, arching his body up as he let out a low, tortured bellow of release.

Hermione boiled over with the pain-pleasure and crested with a high scream of her own just as Lucius released a flood of seed that made him groan and twitch with each involuntary jerk of his body.

After endless rigid seconds riding the orgasmic waves slamming through her small body, Hermione sank down bonelessly over the sweaty chest of her husband and his arms closed tightly over her. She felt a light kiss on the top of her head and then she slid into a dreamless sleep, completely exhausted from her multiple trips to such a raw paradise.

Lucius was still breathing as though he’d run a marathon and he thought he had never had such a tremendous release in his life. When his mind eventually wandered back into coherence he began to grin and then couldn’t stop. Well, well - who knew? The demure little witch in his arms turned into an uncivilized vixen at the combination of sex and spanking. His nipples throbbed, the scrapes on his chest stung and he was ecstatically happy. In a tired daze, Lucius managed to re-attach the bright, silvery chain from his collar to his headboard leaving his wife tethered to his bed before passing out. He didn’t want her to leave him again while he slept.


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Long hours later the sun was peeping through the crack in the heavy dark draperies of Lucius’ bedroom when he was rudely awakened by repeated blows from something soft. He blearily opened his eyes trying to discover the source of the attack and came face to face with an irate, honey-haired pocket Amazon intent on bludgeoning him to death with her pillow. At least her chosen implement was softer this time. Lucius drowsily reached over and plucked the pillow out of his wife’s hands and smiled up at her. “Madam desires?”

“Get this collar off. NOW!” she shrilled. “I tried to unbuckle it but it won’t budge. How dare you chain me up like an animal?”

“Slow down, sprite. I merely wanted to be awake when you left my bed. You sneaked away the last time and I didn’t like that. Although,” he imprudently added, “you certainly had a bit of animal in you last night.” He ran his hand down his chest and Hermione saw the reddened tracks she’s scored on his flesh.

“I…I didn’t…how could I…oh Gods, how could I have done that?” She eyed him suspiciously, hoping he would own up to having bespelled her actions. She did not like thinking she was capable of doing that to anybody. It made her just as reprehensible as he was. He was the bad person, not she. “Remove the collar. I want to leave.” Hermione’s attitude morphed from angry to subdued as her eyes slid away from his and dropped to contemplate the cool gray sheets.

Lucius frowned at the sudden change. This wasn’t right, but he didn’t know why. “I consider these scratches an honor and a treasured compliment, Hermione. I don’t want you to think otherwise. They will fade, but the delicious gift you bestowed will be something I’ll cherish.” Lucius tried to raise her lowered chin but she evaded his touch.

“How can you treasure flesh wounds?” The minute Lucius released the spell on the collar, Hermione skittered off the bed, her question trailing behind her.

“To me they mean you were taken outside yourself while we made love. They are a treasure.” He sighed, watching as his little witch sped out of his bedroom. To himself he muttered, “Still a ways to go. I have the hellcat, but she hates her reaction. Great, just great! A tigress in the bedroom who won’t acknowledge her nature.”

Lucius rolled out of bed and stretched, feeling a few aches from the vigor of the sex they’d indulged in and he shrugged, smiling again. Wandering into his bathroom, he commiserated with his lightly fuzzed face in the bathroom mirror, “I hope it’s easier teaching a hellcat to enjoy her nature, than to teach a mouse to be a hellcat. Merlin knows that never worked.” He finger-combed his wild locks into a semblance of neatness, adding for the reflection’s benefit, “I should know, having been married to the mouse for twenty-plus years.” He smiled at his fanciful conversation and strolled into the shower to get ready for the day.


~~~~


Hermione glowered at her current research project, spread across her desk innocently reminding her she wasn’t making the headway on it that she should. All day long her thoughts had centered on those vivid scratches decorating Lucius’ chest and the remembrance made her cringe. Only a Death Eater could find such marks arousing. He must have bespelled her somehow. Or was she beginning to be infected by her husband’s evil nature?

Hermione felt a blush spread on her cheeks. The chain had been somewhat sexually arousing, although she wouldn’t admit as much to him. The idea of being physically chained to him during sex had increased her awareness of the act they had shared, increased her awareness of him, and she didn’t want to be aware of him except as her fantasy lover.

Now that the numbing ointment had worn off, her backside smarted a little from the goading swats she’d been encouraged with as she rode Lucius’ penis, underlain by the more painful spanking she had sustained earlier. The minor discomfort made her flush with righteous indignation, but there was also a shameful, prurient pleasure, remembering how he had taken retaliatory action against her incessant verbal assaults. Perhaps he was a foe worthy of her strength of will. Her mind skittered across his explanation that he hadn’t liked waking up last time to her empty bed and a tiny smile lifted one side of her mouth before being eradicated by firmly flattened lips. Those scratches bothered her, though. She wasn’t like that.

Hermione was coming to understand she could only push this man so far and then she met a brick wall. That was oddly pleasing somehow, sending a cascade of atavistic feminine flutters deep inside her, which acknowledged a strong, dominant male. Then she mentally shoved her uncultured response away. Being spanked wasn’t a desirable ambition, it was degrading. He had whipped her along with his hand as though she were a lagging hippogriff in a county air race. Hermione dipped her quill in the special erasable octopus ink and resolutely turned her attention to her research.


tbc...

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First there was Dr. Seuss, now I've twisted Kenneth Grahame's 'Wind in the Willows' title. Maybe I'm lapsing into a second childhood. Ah, well...

Review away. And the rating link is available, too.

Check out this chapter's picture at:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/48987.html


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