Sugar Quills

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this tale, and receive no proceeds from it. All borrowed courtesy of Ms. J.K. Rowling.
Warning: Anal Sex!


Hermione could hear Lucius moving away from her. Frozen, she could do nothing but listen to his movements and hazard a guess as to what he planned. Underneath her fear was a yearning to please Lucius and to be pleased by him. She wondered if pain really could be pleasurable. Pain within the context of sexual gratification was nothing new to the world. What worried Hermione was the degree of pain planned.

“Don’t worry love. I’m not about to beat you or truly injure you. Not even so much as a spanking.” Lucius’ cool tones came from somewhere to her left. “Oh, no. We’ll save the spanking for another time. When I’m in the mood to indulge you.”

He could see her dread, tension obvious in the set of her shoulders. He smirked at her terror. He felt the need to frighten her. He wanted to make her realise that he was no child’s plaything. He wanted it clear that he was a grown male, with very adult needs. He had to seize control of the situation. To hell with women’s liberation, or whatever name they called it by now. It was time that Hermione understood, that sexually she was open, weak, and unprotected.

He also wanted to remind her just what her place was in the wizarding world. That though Dumbledore and the other staff seemed to adore this awkward girl, that to him she was nothing. To him, she was lower than Dobby. To him, she was less than the dust on his shoes. Lucius knew that her very ‘muggleness’ was something he should completely despise.

Yet, despite his mental diatribe, he knew he was intensely (albeit reluctantly) attracted to her. Her physical attributes were secondary. Her sharp mind and passionate drive were what interested him. It made a man wonder what would it be like to have all that energy focused solely on them. Now, Lucius knew. And he was not ready to give it up. Unbeknownst to Hermione (and himself), Lucius wanted to ensure that she would turn to no other for satisfaction. So he accepted that while his need to subjugate her demanded appeasement, he would have to temper his desires somewhat.

Leaving his inner ramblings aside, Lucius set to work. Hermione could hear him muttering. Though she strained to hear his incantations, and to decipher their meaning, she could not. His voice continued, low and with an even tempo. When he finished, he seemed to move away from the bed. She heard a door open, and the sound of movement beyond. Shortly thereafter, she heard his steps returning.

She felt his hands at her wrists and ankles, and the soft clink of metal. The bastard was chaining her! Indignation coursed through her.

‘The nerve of him,’she thought, ‘chaining me. I thought he was the big bad Death Eater. Is he so afraid of me that he has to restrain me?’

She heard “Finite Incantatem.” She was unfrozen. Trying to pull her blindfold off, she realised the chains were holding her arms taut. She could barely move.

“My, how trite, Lucius. Chains? What’s next? Whips? Do you have a cat o’nine tails stashed somewhere?” taunted Hermione mockingly, “I thought you were more original than that.” There was no answer, just a soft rustling. Unable to get a response, Hermione began to move restlessly. Then she felt him, standing just beside her.

“We are going to play a little game that I call ‘The Last Mudblood,’” came his voice in her ear. “Charming title, don’t you think?”

He sat beside her on the bed. “Imagine that the wizarding world has finally come to its senses and decimated the useless creatures that inhabit the muggle world. After a bit, most of the stragglers are hunted down and killed. You are one of them. In fact, you are the last one.” Stroking her cheek gently, he continued. “You are resistant until the end. You finally conclude that there is no escape for you. The wizard that has captured you has decided to spare your life. He knows that he will become famous as the owner of the last known mudblood, and is willing to endure her company.”

“However, periodically, her master ensures that she understands just how lucky she is. In this particular instance, the mudblood is to prove her obedience.” Lucius moved his hand away. Hermione could hear the sound of clothing moving. Being blindfolded had her imagination at the end of its tether. She knew of how Lucius treated his house elves, what would he do to a prisoner of war?

Untying her blindfold, Lucius allowed Hermione to see the room. Every wall was now black, with sconces in each corner casting a dim light. Even the bed linen was an inky midnight color. Cold air wafted over Hermione’s nude body. As she looked around, she finally saw Lucius. He was outfitted in Death Eater garb, and loomed menacingly near her. The dim lighting only enhanced the barely suppressed sense of danger.

Lucius grabbed her hair with gloved hands. Winding the long tresses around his wrist, he pulled viciously.

“Well, mudblood, this is definitely your lucky day. I’m in a generous mood.” He bit her lip, breaking the skin, and then sucked the blood away. He kissed her deeply. Hermione’s shredded lip throbbed. Her limbs fought against their restraints.

“Shhh. Hush,” the words were whispered across her forehead. “There is no need to struggle. Allow me to tell you the rules of my adorable vignette. One cannot play a game properly without some guidelines. “

“You, my pet, will prove your loyalty to me tonight,” said Lucius. “You have only one task, and that is to please me. However, you are not allowed to experience any sort of release. If you have an orgasm, you shall be put to death tonight. The room is charmed. Should you come, enjoy it, for it would be your last”

Hermione was astounded. She had picked Lucius because of his skill as a lover. Now, she was to experience that skill and not to truly enjoy it. She realised that Lucius’ cunning mind had come up with something that was quite devious. He would not leave a mark on her. Still, it would be night she truly would never forget. Her stomach tightened in dread.

Releasing her hair, Lucius trailed his gloved hands down her body. The leather of the gloves was soft and supple, the warmth of his hands seeped through them. He arrived at her core, and cupped her sex in his hand. He massaged her, pressing slightly deeper with his middle finger. Her clitoris sprang to life, its sensitive flesh responding. Lucius continued for several minutes, then without warning, he plunged his finger into her depths. Hermione whimpered as he withdrew and thrust in again. His thumb found her nub and swept across it roughly.

Hermione could feel her walls contract slightly. She looked at Lucius and saw the triumph that flared in his eyes. She would not allow him to win. Hermione closed her eyes and began to list the ingredients for the Polyjuice potion in her head. He womb gradually began to relax.

“Do you like me touching you, mudblood?” Lucius grasped her breasts and bent to taste them. The contrast between the cool glide of the gloves with his hot wet mouth was intoxicating. His mouth moved upward to her neck and he sucked her skin fiercely, leaving his brand. Lucius drew back his head and looked searchingly into Hermione’s face. She had a faraway look, as if she were preoccupied with something else.

Suddenly, Hermione was freed from her chains. Lucius turned her to her stomach and pulled her legs over the side of the bed. He bent her over, her bottom in the air. He knelt down behind her and spread her legs, placing them on his shoulders. He employed all his skill in cunnilingus to wring a response from Hermione. When he felt her juices running freely, he stopped and let her legs slide down. Rising, he freed himself of his robes and began to rub her bottom. He used her liquids to lubricate the tiny orifice and his engorged penis.

“Don’t move,” he growled. “Or this will hurt more than a little.” With a push the head of his cock slid into Hermione’s bum. Pressing inch by inch, he found himself snug within her. Hermione tried to relax to ease his way, but she just couldn’t. She felt a tearing that ripped through her. Biting the insides of her mouth, she barely held back a scream.

Lucius continued, heedless of her great discomfort. His hands spread her cunt, finding her clitoris. His movements sped up, and he felt his way ease. Hermione moaned. She never thought that this would be something she would enjoy. She could feel Lucius fingers thrumming against her pussy, the other hand pinching her nipples, his lips on her neck, and his cock filling her ass. It was too much.

She pleaded, “Please, stop. Ohhhh, stop. Oh please, oh please, ohpleaseohplease…” Her words ran together in a litany of desperation.

With her pleas ringing in his ears, Lucius had mercy on her and stated, “Finite Incantatem.”

He pounded into her, knowing he was at the end. \"Come for me, Hermione. Let it go now, love.\" Lucius thrust his fingers into her cunt. Hermione screamed, her voice hoarse and tortured. Lucius felt that familiar tightening in his balls, and emptied himself deep within Hermione.

The room seemed airless as the couple collapsed on the bed. Lucius drew Hermione to him, throwing a hair-roughened leg over her. His hand lay possessively on her breast, and they fell into an exhausted slumber. “She’s mine now,” was his last thought.