Plaything

Title: Plaything
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: HG/LM, HG/SS
Summary: The plot of this fic comes from Amanuensis’ “A Spell to Turn Tigers to
Butter”, available here: http://www.restrictedsection.org/load/story.shtml?/10/aspell.html.
They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Her story centers on Harry who is
given to both Lucius and Severus as a pet. The story is brilliant and I couldn’t help but
wonder what it would be like for Hermione under the same circumstances so I’ve
placed her into Lucius’ and Severus’ clutches. Let’s see what happens. . .

~*Lucius*~

Early the next morning, I was seated at the large mahogany desk in my den,
looking over some missives. This is my favorite room in the manor, the only one I
designed. The rest all reflect the rather garish tastes of my well-bred wife. The thick
carpet is a dark blue which is both rich and calming. The same hue is picked up again
in the walls and in some of the furnishings. My favorite piece is the soft blue velvet
couch. Narcissa is currently visiting relatives in France with my blessing. The less time
I’m forced to spend around that vapid woman, the better. Together, we are a
formidable pair. . .though, I prefer it when we are apart. I married her for both her
wealth, which was as great as my own, and her powerful social position. But I am resigned
to my fate, although I play when, where, and with whom I please.

Not that I haven’t enjoyed the artificial perfection of her body. Indeed, the first
few years we were together I was quite enamored with her considerable attributes. It
was her company I began to loathe. Narcissa’s obsession with her fading beauty was as
annoying as it was pathetic. And her constant chatter about one trivial thing or another
was irritating as well. It is always the small things that become the biggest points of
contention.

Once my family line was secured with an heir, I paid her little attention.
Although, I’m not so sure leaving my legacy in the hands of Draco is a wise decision.
Sometimes I think I should cut my losses and conceive another progeny, one worthy of
his destiny. Yet, every now and then Draco shows promise. Truthfully, he is both as
cunning and intelligent as I, yet his efforts are uneven at best. He is continually bested
by his inferiors. The Potter brat has defeated him every time on the Quidditch field.
And Granger, my new pet, has always surpassed him in the classroom. Yes, he was
Head Boy this year, but his marks were far enough below hers to be considered
embarrassing. Hopefully, he will grow into his new role among the Dark Lord’s
legions. If not. . .well, I’m a relatively young man.

I contemplated making a gift of the girl to my son but I discarded that idea as
soon as I had it. For some reason, I kept coming back to the idea that she was mine. .
.part of the time anyway. She was given to me and it should stay that way. Bes, es, my
foolish son was not yet old enough to fully appreciate such a gift or the proper way to
use it.

I was growing impatient waiting for my gift to arrive, the way a child is on
Christmas Eve. I glanced at the clock on the mantle and discovered that it was nearly
eleven. Lord Voldemort had made it clear that she was to spend a day and night with
us on a rotating schedule. Severus is late.

When he finally deigned to Apparate into my den with my prize in tow, it was
nearly noon and my patience was in short supply. I managed to paste on a polite smile.
“Severus,” I acknowledged. My eyes drifted from his pinched face to the young girl at
his feet. She was on her hands and knees, with her eyes carefully fixed on the floor. My
view of her was partially obscured by his cape which fell over her back protectively.
Why he insists on swooping about in yards of black fabric, I’ll never know. Not taking
my eyes off of her, I say to my old friend and worst enemy, “you may go now.”
He let one of those smirks settle on his lips. “I must apologize for my tardiness. .
.I was otherwise engaged.” One of his long thin hands settled into her hair and he
stroked it, almost tenderly. Like an owner caresses a prized pet.

“I see,” I replied smoothly. “I *do* hope I won’t lose track of the time as well.”
I could see a thin white line appear about his mouth. Apparently, Severus has
become quite enamored of our little prize. Oh, I was going to enjoy being in part-time
possession of something he valued. I knew I’d made the right decision last evening.

He reigned in his rage an inclined his head in a tight nod. “I’ll expect you
tomorrow afternoon, Lucius.” He looked down at her one more time . . . reluctant to
leave her in my clutches, no doubt. Can’t say that I blame him. He was about to say
something to her but thought better of it and Dissapparated, leaving the two of us
alone.

“Stand up,” I ordered curtly, coming out from behind my desk. She’d been
mollycoddled by him last night, no doubt. She wouldn’t find the same consideration
here.

She obediently got to her feet, her eyes still staring at the floor. “Eyes on me,” I
said as I approached her. She hesitantly looked up at me with wide eyes. “I won’t have
you pretending you’re somewhere else or I’m *someone* else, girl. You are always too
keep your eyes on me unless I tell you otherwise. Understood?”

“Yes, master,” she answered.

I stepped behind her, my breath falling on her shoulder. I was too close for her
comfort now and she resisted the urge to flee. I could see her leg muscles tighten and
then release, in preparation to run . . .but there is nowhere left to run towards. Severus
healed all of her wounds. He always has had a soft streak and it’ll be the death of him
one of these days. She smelled of soap and apple shampoo. I’m almost grateful to him
– every artist appreciateblanblank canvas.

“What do you call Severus?”

“I call him Severus, master.”

He really has lost his edge. “You will address me as ‘master’ or ‘my lord’. You
have not earned the privilege of using my given name.”

“Yes, my lord,” she said dutifully.

“Now, let’s take a better look at you.” I situated myself on the couch and regard
her with approving eyes. She is a lovely young thing. . .for a Mudblood. “Turn around
for me with your arms spread w”
”

Her cheeks fill with a delightful blush before she pirouetted before me. I sucked
in a breath at the sight of her lithe body, moving in fluid motion. I had planned to
humiliate her, tease her, and leave my own marks on her flesh – but I was seized with a
most unwelcome desire for her. My deceitful flesh is hardening at the mere thought of
taking her. I’d had paramours of both sexes, most of them her age. I never could resist
youthful flesh, but all of my lovers had been pureblooded. I’d had a glut of companions
since my liege had begun recruiting young followers. . .some of the Death Eater
initiation rituals could be quite pleasurable. I’ve never lowered myself to consort with
Mudbloods. But no one had ever gifted me with Hermione Granger before.

I led her down the hall to my bedchamber by a cunning leather leash, although I
allowed her to walk behind me, instead of crawl. What can I say? I was feeling
generous. I pushed her back upon the four-poster bed. The coverlet was Slytherin-
green and emblazoned with my family crest. As mentioned before, my wife’s taste are
quite gauche. But this day, I found the Malfoy Coat of Arms quite appealing, especially
when my pet lay in the center of it, her arms and legs spread wide at my request. Her
body is perfect in the way that only an adolescent girl’s can be. Her creamy skin is
unlined and even, covered in tiny pale hair, like a young duckling or chick. Exquisite. I
fastened her arms to the bedpost with two scarves purloined from my wives wardrobe
but left her legs. The girl was breathing quite rapidly now, in fear. . .not desire. I didn’t
care, I found both emotions enjoyable in a pet. How curious that they had the same
physical effect on the body. . .the dilated eyes, the panting breaths, the loss of control. . .

“Are you afraid of me, girl?”

“Y-yes, master,” she answered honestly, blinking back tears.

I offer her no reassurances, instead I send her an enigmatic smile. I stood at the
foot of the bed and begin disrobing. As ordered, she followed my movements with her
wide eyes. She bites her lower lip to keep from saying something, probably a plea for
leniency. When I am completely naked, I saunter to the side of the bed and sit down at
her hip. I’ve always been proud of my body and comfortable in my own skin. I notice
that she never lets her gaze slip past my chest. One of my hands settles between her
legs. . .she knows better than to clamp them shut. “Severus has taken you here, I
presume?” I find that she is still dry and she winces at the intrusion. She has not yet
learned the pleasure than can be found in a manageable amount of pain.

“Yes, master,” she says softly. There is a charming little hitch in her voice.

“Has he had you anywhere else?” My fingers begin to stroke her idly, coaxing a
response from her unwilling body.

“No, my lord,” she responded with a small moan. She has been conditioned over
the past two weeks to give the correct response in order to avoid pain. Yet, I know
Severus went easy on her. If she’d been brought to my bed last night, I wouldn’t have
stopped until I’d had all of her.

I’m rewarded with a rush of moisture for my ministrations. I deliberately put
the glistening finger in my mouth and lick away my first taste of her sweetness. I’m
sorely tempted to bend my mouth to her sex and drink my fill but she hasn’t earned
that yet. I settle for placing my hand on her concave abdomen, enjoying the supple feel
of her skin. I can feel the muscles tense beneath my hand. Her fear response is flawless.
The little hairs on her body were already standing up, goose pimples were forming on
her tender flesh. Her nipples have already hardened into two tight little points. “I do
believe you are enjoying this,” I taunt.

I see a small spark of defiance in her eyes when she meets my stare. She quickly
smothers it but I’m elated. I don’t want a passive pet. No, I want a mold her, fashion
her will to my needs. I cannot do that if she merely seeks to please me. I need to
provoke her somehow, shake her from her stupor. “Tell me, girl. Tell me you enjoy
this.”

Her chin juts upward slightly, despite the fact that she’s bound to my bed. She
takes in a breath, “No, I don’t. It’s rape.” She closes her eyes, expecting a beating. I
merely pinch her nipple – hard. It stings a bit but, compared to what she’s endured, it
doesn’t even rate a cry from her. She opens those expressive eyes, disbelief is clouding
them.

“Your body does. It craves my touch.” To prove this, I bent down and teased
the nipple I’d just abused. It hardened even further. “See?”

She gave an involuntary moan even as she shook her head. “N-no. . .I--”

“Don’t bother to deny it. I have my answer already,” I crow. Already, I knew
that my more physical means of domination would have to wait, lest I obliterate her
spirt entirely. Right now, I would have to content myself with some mind games. At
least I’m good at them.


Her eyes shoot sparks at me, even as she leans into my caress.

Completely mastering this beautiful creature would be quite an undertaking. I
haven’t had a challenge like this in years. I could already tell that she would try to
mask her emotions from me, I’d have to be very observant. Time to up the stakes. “I’ve
tasted you, its only fair that you taste mI saI say with a smirk as I balance a knee on the
bed and straddle her chest.

Again, that luscious fear enters her eyes as she comes face to face with my staff. I
resist the urge to make some crude remark about her being Head Girl. It’s beneath me. .
.just like her, both figuratively and literally. “Open that pretty mouth of yours.” She
obediently takes me between her lips and awkwardly begins to suck. “Well, we have
our work cut out for us, don’t we?” But I have time to help her polish her technique.
She eventually begins a pleasurable rhythm and I let my head fall back. What her
mouth lacks in expertise, it makes up for in enthusiasm. Although, I know this is only a
ploy to accelerate the process. When I can stand it no longer, I lose myself in the vortex
of her heated mouth.

Much later, I push into her for the first time. I’ve already come twice and she
hasn’t been allowed to yet. I’ve found that you should never give too much, too soon.
She is helpless beneath me, her eyes are slammed shut and her face is shimmg wig with
sweat. She has no choice but to move against my hips as I pound into her. I’m almost
overcome by the predatory thrill that goes through me. “Say it,” I growl.

She wails, her head falling to the side. She bites down on her lower lip viciously
to block the word from coming out.

I continue to thrust into her, I’m nearly lost to my own need. “Say it!”

“Please,” she cries finally. “Please, master, please!”

I insert a hand between us, pinching her in just the right place. Her eyes open in
wonder at the commingled pleasure and pain just before she comes. And it’s a glorious
sight to behold. Her face becomes flushed and her eyes are slightly unfocused. It
wrings a cry from her that I desperately want to hear again. . .and again. . .and again. I
give a cry of my own before I bury my face in her shoulder. I finally spill myself inside
of her. . . making her mine.

Moments later, I roll off of her. She gives a startled cry at the unexpected ache of
my withdrawal. No doubt, dear Severus used magic to take away the hurt. I fight the
nearly overpowering urge to pull her into my arms and settle her against my chest.
Those sorts of caresses are meant for lovers, not playthings. I rollover on my side,
facing away from her and snap. “Get out of my bed. I’m finished with you for the
moment.”
Her movements are slow as dis disentangles herself from the sheets. I can hear
her indrawn breath as she stifles a sob. She creeps away from the bed to the door with her head
down. “I didn’t give you permission to leave. . .or walk.” I purposefully
make my voice icy to cover my irrational desire to console her. Normally, I welcome
solitude after I’ve satisfied my desires but, somehow, I can’t bear the thought of her
leaving just now. “Lay down on the floor.” She sinks to her knees and crawls on all
fours to the end of my bed to lay in front of the fireplace. I watch, out of the corner of
my eye as she wraps her arms around herself, seeking comfort in her own embrace. She
is shivering although the room is quite warm. I close my eyes against the sight and
tell myself that she is nothing to me. She’s a Mudblood. . .a slave. . .a plaything.



Acknowledgments:
Lillyanna – Thank you so much! I’m glad you like it.
hurricane – it’s difficult, isn’t it? You wanna hate him for doing it but he genuinely
wants her.
Kittykat- Thanks!
JD– Here it is.
Nell – he’s a favorite of mine too! He’s just so darn evil.

Severella– Wow. I hope I can live up to your expectations! And I hope you enjoyed
Lucius’ POV.
Shannon– Thank you so much. This is from Lucius’ POV and I’m working on
Hermione’s POV. I think this story will be switching from character to character.
Molly– Thank you and please forgive me for my mistake.
Corazon– I’m pleased to hear you call it powerful, it does have an edge to it. Thank you
for the praise. I appreciate it.
Amiella– They are a fun genre to write, aren’t they? Thanks!
Mionegal – Thanks.
J.S. - No offense taken. Yes, its quite a lot darker than the type of thing I usually write. thanks!
Cabron – thank you so much. Here’s more.