The Whipping Girl Chapter 4 up!

A bit dark. I warned ya. oh and some M/M action.




The next day allowed her to explore the Mansion on her own. The Malfoy’s whilst being inbred and selective possessed a large collection of Muggle articles, although the uses of said items were clearly nonexistent. A gym, a hot tub, private saunas, and an immense private garden, complete with statues of various witches and wizards in compromising positions forever encapsulated in marble. Hermione would have blushed at most of the statues if she had not found herself in one of those statue’s positions at some point in her life.

The garden was opulent, flora and fauna of both Muggle and Magical cast, with a small hot house of rather rare orchids and other temperamental flowers. Mitzy summoned Hermione around 2 pm for her daily tune-up session and later she was released gown in a simply silk robe that tied at the waist, allowing for nothing underneath.

Hermione kept closer to the house exploring the top floors, seeing various artifacts from periods of both Muggle and Magical History. The house was a bit mysterious and occasionally Hermione would enter a room to discover no returning door and staircases that would lead to empty walls. Hermione turned around after two rounds of walking the third floor, when she turned into a room that opened up suddenly.

Light dazzled her eyes as she saw that she was on a balcony looking down a flight of stairs. She tilted her head and saw endless shelves surrounding all the walls, where the stained glass did not reach. It made her weak in the knees, not dissimilar to when Draco kissed her in the middle of her back. It was the biggest library she had ever seen in her entire life. Hermione fled down the stairs and almost tripped as she ran to grab a book off the shelf. “History of Ireland, a dissection of Fae History.” Hermione reached up to reshelf it and grabbed another.

The Malfoy’s had the most versatile section of books that she had ever seen. Magical, Muggle, Fiction, Non-fiction, and after an hour she found a section that was clearly for Narcissa Malfoy back when she was alive. Hundreds of gothic romance’s, witches and wizards, humans and merfolk, hundreds, new and ancient. Hermione felt something giddy loosen in her and she gave a large whoop and jumped up in the air.

“My wife was a huge fan of the romance genre,” purred Lucius Malfoy from behind her. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched the girl’s display.

Hermione laughed inwardly, at the implication of that. Lucius Malfoy looked like a character from a romance novel. He was dashing, seductive, cruel and heartless on the exterior, except that the heart of gold that most heroes possess was missing. Poor Narcissa must have felt so mislead and empty after she realized that.

“You are needed for dinner, my dear,” Lucius walked towards her, his long pale hair caresses at her arms as he stood far to close to her. Hermione shivered slightly at the intimate stance. Lucius stared hard at her, avarice filling his cerulean gaze. “I look forward to our cuisine tonight, it promises to be… positively divine,” Lucius moved past her, his eyes resting on her breasts before he strode from the library.

Hermione felt a bit of her initial happiness fade. She was not a guest here. She would never be able to partake of the pleasures that the Mansion had to offer. Hermione slid the book back on the shelf and turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen. Time to get ready for tonight. What ever that meant.

Draco felt like his head was on backwards. Last night had been the best experience that he had ever had in his entire life. The irony was not lost on him that the one person who turned him to the light, the reason he had joined the Order to become a Double spy, was the same person who he may have to sacrifice to insure that he succeeded at his job. He had done it all for her. Hermione Granger. She had saved his life during the final battle. He almost died but she deflected a hex that could have been his undoing.

She was so brilliant, clever, and beautiful to him. The change happened after he slept with her. She had been his first, as he was hers. A mad passionate moment that ended in tragedy the next month, when he was responsible for the death of Dumbledore. She hated him then. Draco was able to write it off. Obviously, she was a bitch, and did not understand that they were holding his family hostage. Voldemort would have killed his mother. He did what he had to do to make sure she survived.

Narcissa still died a few months later at a Dark Revel that ended badly. Draco felt like a fool, and when Hermione saved his rotten life at that battle, he had been trying so hard to end it that it had shocked him when she did it. Obviously, she still cared about him. It changed something in him. He knew what he had to do. Sadly, with the fallout, no one seemed to know what happened to Granger.

Now she was here. He loved her desperately, perhaps even more so now, and he could not do anything to help her. He was going crazy. Tonight the Deatheaters were coming over and he had to get his head on straight.

…


Draco entered the drawing room and saw the Deatheaters gathered. It was a spare few of the choicest and foulest of the pack. Lestrange, Fenrir, Notts, and his Father. Draco stumbled at the doorway when he saw the table of food laid out. He tripped and almost fell face first when Fenrir grabbed his shoulder and right him. “Watch yourself, mate. Do not want to spoil the lovely table setting,” growled Fenrir.

Except it was not a table setting. At least not in the most conventional of settings. Draco stared at the vision that had made him trip up.


Hermione Granger was laid out, naked and her rosy, pink flesh was covered in fruit. She was stationed as a bowl, or platter. Fresh flowers and candles surrounded her. Hermione’s eyes were closed as Lestrange was also bent over; he bit down on her nipple, his mouth plucking the bit of strawberry that rested on her puckered nipple.

Lestrange’s tongue laved at her nipple and she gasped softly from his rough tongue. Lucius quirked an eyebrow up and placed a half of an apple into Hermione’s mouth and had her bit down.

“No more noises, last I checked the silverware does not speak, does it, SON?” Lucius turned to face him; Draco gritted his teeth, knowing that this display was solely for him. He was trying to draw him out, make him cave.

“You would be correct father,” purred Draco, clearing his throat. He saw Fenrir eyeing the plump piece of fruit that rested at the cleft of her pussy and he strode to Hermione, bending low to pluck the piece of fruit up, his tongue barely touching her cunt.

Hermione jerked at his touch despite that she was on display and utterly humiliated. She felt arousal despite the fact that Draco was just trying to avoid having Fenrir touching her so intimately. It was a lost cause. If Fenrir wanted her, he would have her. Her heart went out to Draco, when he looked away from her, she saw the pained look on his face. Hermione longed to soothe his guilty conscious but she merely bit down, the juice from the apple, trickling down the sides of her mouth.

Lucius licked the juice away and removed the apple from her mouth. “Of course, I forgot about you, my dear. You need to eat as well.” His slender fingers plucked a large plump grape from her belly button and he commanded her, “Lick it.”

Hermione reluctantly licked at the small globe of fruit. Her pink tongue darting out to touch the smooth flesh of the grape.

Lestrange groaned seeing her tongue dart out and he grabbed his cock through his robes. “Bugger, this little slag is making me so fucking hard, Lucius.”

“Ah, but that is the point, is it not, old friend? This is a hedonistic approach to a rather mundane task, such as consumption,” purred Lucius, his fingers tracing the bottom of Hermione’s lips. Her tongue lashed out and caught his finger and he smiled indulgently at her. Hermione felt a strange attraction to him that she was deeply ashamed of now.

“Good girl,” Lucius coaxed her tongue out again, teasingly with the piece of fruit.

Lucius placed the grape into his mouth, and bent his head. His cool lips touched on her own, transferring the grape to her mouth. Hermione bit down on the fruit, savoring the burst of flavor, before Lucius laced his tongue through her mouth, mingling his own taste with the fruit.

Fenrir moaned and grabbed Lestrange, his tongue shoving down the other man’s throat after watching the display before them. The two wizards met in the middle and Fenrir grabbed Lestrange’s buttocks, with a hard, low growl. Draco came up to the other side of the table, watching as Lucius pulled away from Hermione, a droplet of juice spilling from his lips.

Hermione looked at Draco and she undulated her hips, The fruit moved upwards towards Draco, and her cinnamon gaze begged him to take from her. Pleading that he not hold himself responsible, or let his father manipulate him over her.

Draco took a deep breath, and bit down on her other nipple, suckling the tip as the cool, fruity taste of strawberry burst deep in his throat, combined with the delicate flavor of Hermione. Draco groaned as he father grabbed her other nipple, suckling at her. Hermione felt both the father and the son, tenderly laving at her breasts, both blonde heads bent in supplication over her body.

Hermione felt her body emitting the juices of her arousal and it began to flush her face that both of them could so positively undo her. Fenrir and Lestrange began to stroke her belly absently picking up pieces of fruit, feeding it to each other in a strangely violent and arousing fashion.

Soon the fruit was gone and only the sexual play remained, Hermione jerked as she felt fingers delving inside her slit, searching out the hidden, (ironic) cherry that Mitzy had inserted earlier that night.

Hermione looked down, her eyes glazed with passion at Lucius’s face; he withdrew the cherry from inside her and sucked on it before dropping it onto her belly. Lucius nodded at Draco mockingly and Draco bit into the fruit, and deposited it into her mouth. His tongue intertwining with her own as he devoured her. Lucius gave the two other Deatheaters a look and they made their way to one of the empty rooms to consummate their lust-crazed passion together in a violent way. Lucius stared down at the wriggling bundle of flesh that was Hermione Granger. His son passionately kissed her, as his fingers tugged on her swollen nipples.

Lucius disrobed, watching them, his cock was standing at attention. He saw Draco’s head bent to nurse at her breasts now. Lucius pushed her legs apart, and crawled on top of her. Hermione’s eyes widened slightly as she felt the weight of Lucius on top of her. Draco continued to suckle at her breast, almost ashamed at how aroused he felt seeing his father on top of Hermione.

“Prepare to welcome a real wizard, witch,” commanded Lucius, and he thrust hard upside her. His length was not as long as Draco but he was thick and she felt herself behind stretched hard. Hermione gasped at the sensation of pleasure it evoked. Lucius kissed her mouth, biting down on her lower lip gently as he bucked up inside her, repeatedly.

Lucius grit his teeth, the witch was still tight, how the fuck was that possible?! She felt good, abnormally good, slick with arousal and desire, perfectly encasing his cock. She bucked up and met his thrusts hard. Lucius almost felt displaced; shouldn’t she be crying or screaming right now? Draco looked hurt by her response and Lucius smiled. At least something made sense here.

“Take Draco in your mouth, witch,” panted Lucius, as he rose up and turned her around, slamming into her from behind. Hermione’s breasts bounced as he rode her from behind, and she was on all fours on the low table, Draco looked uncertain.

Hermione opened her mouth, and pleaded silently with him to do what he had too. Draco whispered, “Forgive me.” He pushed his cock past her lips, choking her mouth with him cock, as his father fucked her from behind. This was beyond anguish; it was unnatural because he was enjoying it. Hermione seemed to want this, but it was untenable that he could do this to a girl he cared about.

Draco felt a lump in his throat and he met his father’s gaze over Hermione’s bobbing head. Hermione gasped suddenly and his cock slipped out as his father yelled, pounding harder and harder until he fell limp, exploding inside of her. Draco gasped as he felt himself respond to the erotic sight.

“You have this little Mudblood in her place, Draco. I underestimated you. Obviously you instructed her to please me as well,” Lucius gasped suddenly drawing a deep breath as he pulled out.

Draco stared hard at his father and pulled out of Hermione’s mouth with a gasp. Hermione had swallowed his seed, along with her pride to save him.

He knew that.

Draco was going to have to do something fast before his father corrupted him forever.









TBC - Please read and review.