The Schoolgirl and the Death Eaters
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
19,059
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
19,059
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Schoolgirl and the Death Eaters
Title: The Schoolgirl and the Death Eaters
Summary: Hermione comes home from work to find her husband has something special in store for her. Dramionaise. Threesome, N/C(sorta)
Rating: NC-17
Warning: This is a story about a fantasy rape. If this bothers you please do not read it. I have no sympathy for people who read the warnings, read the story anyway then flame. Last word…. If you don’t like this kind of story….. Bugger Off!!!
Author's Note: Written for the August Theme and Kink Challenge on the yahoo group ‘It’s Always the Quiet Ones’. This is a little plot bunny that cropped up while at work one day… You try working with these naughty thoughts running rampant through your mind all bleeding day!!!
Archiving: Exclusive for 48 hours to the Yahoo Groups “IatQO” and “Ménage-a-Yummy”
_,-~*~-,_,-~*~-,_,-~*~-,_
Hermione walked in the door and tossed her bag on the couch. She was hot and tired. Her Head of Department ran her ragged all day long. By two o’clock that afternoon Hermione had been ready to wring Percy Weasley’s neck if he popped his head into her office one more time. Besides her horrible day at work, the cooling charms around the ministry failed on what had to be the hottest day of the summer. By the time she was ready to apparate home, she was hot, sweaty and generally miserable.
With a pop she appeared in the large foyer of her home. Hermione walked through the cool house and trudged up the stairs intending to keep a date with the big cast iron claw foot tub in her bathroom. That is, until she saw what was lying on her bed, and then she opted for a quick refreshing shower.
She wrapped a towel around her head turban style and shimmied into a pair of maroon lacy boy-leg panties and a matching bra. Then she put on thiforiform that she hadn’t even contemplated in five years – the white blouse, red and gold tie, ski skirt, and finally, the black and maroon robe complete with the shiny Head Girl badge. Hermione looked at herself, and with a few flicks of her wand she grinned at the results. The blouse was smaller and slightly more transparent so that her burgundy-red bra could be seen underneath and her skirt ruffled around mid-thigh.
Hermione unwrapped her wet hair from the towel and cast a drying c. He. Her hair wound into ringlets and she combed her fingers through her thick hair to make her locks even bush rem reminiscent of the unruliness of her hair during her Hogwarts years. Hermione slipped frilly white socks on her feet and then slid her feet into three-inch high Mary Jane fuck-me pumps.
Hermione smiled into the mirror and slipped her wand into the pocket of her robe. She turned on her heel and walked down several halls, going deeper into the manor she now ca hom home.
She put her hand hantlantly on the door to the Requirement Room. Her husband had stolen that idea from the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, and after they got married, he decided that they had to have one. She didn’t know what to expect when she entered. Her husband was a wonderfully kinky man, and the scenarios that he came up with never failed to excite her beyond belief. Tonight she knew was going to be a bit different. They were bringing another into their little games.
They had talked it over many times, bringing another man into their lives. This particular man had once been her husband’s lover back in his Hogwarts days. Yes, she knew that Draco Malfoy was bisexual, and for that matter so was she. Hermione still saw Pansy on occasion when both of them needed a soft feminine touch.
Hermione took ep bep breath and opened the door, and stepped inside. Her feet met hard stone, and her heels clicked as she walked further into the room. She gasped as she saw the leather bench and padded sawhorse, the manacles that hung on a rack attached to the wall. A small coil of fear gathered in her stomach. The room was almost unbearably hot and she loosened the red and gold tie neatly knotted at her throat. A whisper caught her attention, and before she could react, a great invisible hand forced her to her knees.
A rough hand fisted in her hair tightly, and her eyes watered with the pain of it. Her head was forced back until her eyes met hard indigo behind a silver Death Eater’s mask.
“Are you ready to meet your Lord, bitch?” The man’s voice was rough and deep, though slightly muffled, behind the mask.
A shiver crawled down her back, “Yes,” she replied softly.
He cuffed her across the face and pulled her head back even further, “What was that?” he asked menacingly.
“Yes, Hermione amended quickly. She felt her knickers soak from the wetness that threatened to trail down her thighs.
The door to the room opened and closed once more, and the man threw her violently forward so that she landed on her hands. His foot pressed on her behind, forcing her to prostrate herself before whomever it was that had entered the room. She heard the soft thud of boots traveling across the floor and, from the corner of her eyes, watched them settle in front of a large chair then kick slightly out as the man whom she assumed took the chair.
Her hair was pushed forward off her neck, and a hard leather collar was buckled on. "With the sound of a sharp snap a moment later, Hermione knew that her collar had been hooked with a leash."
She was pulled forward with a tug, and some instinct told her not to rise to her feet, but to crawl across the floor on all fours. She was pulled around, and her head was jerked back with a tug to her hair. With the hand holding her chin up, she felt very much like one of those Crufts show dogs put on display for the judges.
She heard the shuffling of feet as the other man rose from his chair and stepped forward. His hands brushed over her body in a matter of fact way. He squeezed her breasts as if to gauge their fullness, she gasped when he tugged on her nipple sharply, and she moaned softly when he rubbed his hand over her aching, hot center.
“She’ll do nicely,” came the man’s voice, soft yet strong, her husband’s voice.
Once he was seated again, another yank on her collar moved her forward again so that her face was directly over a pair of polished ler ber boots.
“Lick,” came the order from somewhere behind her.
Tentatively she poked her tongue out of her mouth and made a long wet swipe up the shiny surface of the boot. She felt her skirt flipped up over her arse and a firm body settle between her thighs. She couldn’t help but press back when she felt the erection brush against her bottom.
“She is a hot little bitch. Look at the way she is already trying to hump The The voice behind her was amused, and she felt hard fingers dig into her hips as he ground his cock against her core, making her whimper with need.
“What do you want, whore?” came the husky voice of her husband. Just the tone of his voice brought a shiver down her spine. To be used by him like this made her feel desired and wanted. She couldn’t explain why, but that was how she felt.
“Please fuck me.” Her voice was breathy with desire.
Her panties were roughly pulled down her thighs, and her blouse was pulleen, en, buttons pinging as they bounced off the ground and her arms were trappedind ind her back. Velvet softness teased at her dripping opening, and her ears perked at the sound of a descending zipper before her. She raised her head and looked hungrily at the cock before her. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes closed when she was suddenly filled with one hard thrust. She felt her body stretching to accommodate the impressive size of man man behind her.
“Open your eyes.” Along with the order came a sharp stinging slap to her arse. Her eyes snapped open, and she met stormy grey eyes behind a silver Death Eater mask. She couldn’t look away as she was pounded from behind. The man seated before her slowly caressed his purple-headed cock with his fist, slowly pumping up and down as he watched her fucked on her knees with her hands all but bound behind her back and her breasts swaying freely with every forceful thrust.
Fingers splayed over her lower back, and a rough thumb pressed against her rear entrance. The slight pressure became more insistent, and soon it slid inside. She moaned deeply and circled her hips, trying to get more friction. Another hand obligingly trailed over her stomach, and her clit was grasped tightly between strong fingers. Her knees began to shake as her orgasm swept over her, and a muffled groan filled the air as the man behind her plunged into her wildly. With three last hard thrusts and a satisfied grunt he slumped over her .
.
“Open your mouth,” came the almost gentle command.
Hermione raised her head once more and obligingly opened her mouth. She kept her eyes on the man now standing above her as he pumped his fist over his cock. His head fell back as his seed fell on her face and in her hair. She took him into her mouth as the last ofspilspilled into her mouth, and she swallowed eagerly, loving his taste.
Hermione scooped up some of the cooling liquid from her cheek and sucked it off her finger. She looked up and removed her finger from her mouth as her husband yanked the mask from his face and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. She hardly noticed when the body behind her moved, releasing her arms, and a wet tongue lapped at the seed on her face.
“Mmm, just as sweet as I remember,” Blaise Zabini commented.
Draco laughed and kissed his former lover as he nestled Hermione in his arms then kissed the top of her head. “I am so lucky to have such a lusty, kinky wife,” he murmured into her hair.
“Good thing, Darling, because next time I’m going to be the Dark Lord,” Hermione said a g a grin as she snuggled in the dual embrace of her husband and their lover.
Summary: Hermione comes home from work to find her husband has something special in store for her. Dramionaise. Threesome, N/C(sorta)
Rating: NC-17
Warning: This is a story about a fantasy rape. If this bothers you please do not read it. I have no sympathy for people who read the warnings, read the story anyway then flame. Last word…. If you don’t like this kind of story….. Bugger Off!!!
Author's Note: Written for the August Theme and Kink Challenge on the yahoo group ‘It’s Always the Quiet Ones’. This is a little plot bunny that cropped up while at work one day… You try working with these naughty thoughts running rampant through your mind all bleeding day!!!
Archiving: Exclusive for 48 hours to the Yahoo Groups “IatQO” and “Ménage-a-Yummy”
_,-~*~-,_,-~*~-,_,-~*~-,_
Hermione walked in the door and tossed her bag on the couch. She was hot and tired. Her Head of Department ran her ragged all day long. By two o’clock that afternoon Hermione had been ready to wring Percy Weasley’s neck if he popped his head into her office one more time. Besides her horrible day at work, the cooling charms around the ministry failed on what had to be the hottest day of the summer. By the time she was ready to apparate home, she was hot, sweaty and generally miserable.
With a pop she appeared in the large foyer of her home. Hermione walked through the cool house and trudged up the stairs intending to keep a date with the big cast iron claw foot tub in her bathroom. That is, until she saw what was lying on her bed, and then she opted for a quick refreshing shower.
She wrapped a towel around her head turban style and shimmied into a pair of maroon lacy boy-leg panties and a matching bra. Then she put on thiforiform that she hadn’t even contemplated in five years – the white blouse, red and gold tie, ski skirt, and finally, the black and maroon robe complete with the shiny Head Girl badge. Hermione looked at herself, and with a few flicks of her wand she grinned at the results. The blouse was smaller and slightly more transparent so that her burgundy-red bra could be seen underneath and her skirt ruffled around mid-thigh.
Hermione unwrapped her wet hair from the towel and cast a drying c. He. Her hair wound into ringlets and she combed her fingers through her thick hair to make her locks even bush rem reminiscent of the unruliness of her hair during her Hogwarts years. Hermione slipped frilly white socks on her feet and then slid her feet into three-inch high Mary Jane fuck-me pumps.
Hermione smiled into the mirror and slipped her wand into the pocket of her robe. She turned on her heel and walked down several halls, going deeper into the manor she now ca hom home.
She put her hand hantlantly on the door to the Requirement Room. Her husband had stolen that idea from the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, and after they got married, he decided that they had to have one. She didn’t know what to expect when she entered. Her husband was a wonderfully kinky man, and the scenarios that he came up with never failed to excite her beyond belief. Tonight she knew was going to be a bit different. They were bringing another into their little games.
They had talked it over many times, bringing another man into their lives. This particular man had once been her husband’s lover back in his Hogwarts days. Yes, she knew that Draco Malfoy was bisexual, and for that matter so was she. Hermione still saw Pansy on occasion when both of them needed a soft feminine touch.
Hermione took ep bep breath and opened the door, and stepped inside. Her feet met hard stone, and her heels clicked as she walked further into the room. She gasped as she saw the leather bench and padded sawhorse, the manacles that hung on a rack attached to the wall. A small coil of fear gathered in her stomach. The room was almost unbearably hot and she loosened the red and gold tie neatly knotted at her throat. A whisper caught her attention, and before she could react, a great invisible hand forced her to her knees.
A rough hand fisted in her hair tightly, and her eyes watered with the pain of it. Her head was forced back until her eyes met hard indigo behind a silver Death Eater’s mask.
“Are you ready to meet your Lord, bitch?” The man’s voice was rough and deep, though slightly muffled, behind the mask.
A shiver crawled down her back, “Yes,” she replied softly.
He cuffed her across the face and pulled her head back even further, “What was that?” he asked menacingly.
“Yes, Hermione amended quickly. She felt her knickers soak from the wetness that threatened to trail down her thighs.
The door to the room opened and closed once more, and the man threw her violently forward so that she landed on her hands. His foot pressed on her behind, forcing her to prostrate herself before whomever it was that had entered the room. She heard the soft thud of boots traveling across the floor and, from the corner of her eyes, watched them settle in front of a large chair then kick slightly out as the man whom she assumed took the chair.
Her hair was pushed forward off her neck, and a hard leather collar was buckled on. "With the sound of a sharp snap a moment later, Hermione knew that her collar had been hooked with a leash."
She was pulled forward with a tug, and some instinct told her not to rise to her feet, but to crawl across the floor on all fours. She was pulled around, and her head was jerked back with a tug to her hair. With the hand holding her chin up, she felt very much like one of those Crufts show dogs put on display for the judges.
She heard the shuffling of feet as the other man rose from his chair and stepped forward. His hands brushed over her body in a matter of fact way. He squeezed her breasts as if to gauge their fullness, she gasped when he tugged on her nipple sharply, and she moaned softly when he rubbed his hand over her aching, hot center.
“She’ll do nicely,” came the man’s voice, soft yet strong, her husband’s voice.
Once he was seated again, another yank on her collar moved her forward again so that her face was directly over a pair of polished ler ber boots.
“Lick,” came the order from somewhere behind her.
Tentatively she poked her tongue out of her mouth and made a long wet swipe up the shiny surface of the boot. She felt her skirt flipped up over her arse and a firm body settle between her thighs. She couldn’t help but press back when she felt the erection brush against her bottom.
“She is a hot little bitch. Look at the way she is already trying to hump The The voice behind her was amused, and she felt hard fingers dig into her hips as he ground his cock against her core, making her whimper with need.
“What do you want, whore?” came the husky voice of her husband. Just the tone of his voice brought a shiver down her spine. To be used by him like this made her feel desired and wanted. She couldn’t explain why, but that was how she felt.
“Please fuck me.” Her voice was breathy with desire.
Her panties were roughly pulled down her thighs, and her blouse was pulleen, en, buttons pinging as they bounced off the ground and her arms were trappedind ind her back. Velvet softness teased at her dripping opening, and her ears perked at the sound of a descending zipper before her. She raised her head and looked hungrily at the cock before her. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes closed when she was suddenly filled with one hard thrust. She felt her body stretching to accommodate the impressive size of man man behind her.
“Open your eyes.” Along with the order came a sharp stinging slap to her arse. Her eyes snapped open, and she met stormy grey eyes behind a silver Death Eater mask. She couldn’t look away as she was pounded from behind. The man seated before her slowly caressed his purple-headed cock with his fist, slowly pumping up and down as he watched her fucked on her knees with her hands all but bound behind her back and her breasts swaying freely with every forceful thrust.
Fingers splayed over her lower back, and a rough thumb pressed against her rear entrance. The slight pressure became more insistent, and soon it slid inside. She moaned deeply and circled her hips, trying to get more friction. Another hand obligingly trailed over her stomach, and her clit was grasped tightly between strong fingers. Her knees began to shake as her orgasm swept over her, and a muffled groan filled the air as the man behind her plunged into her wildly. With three last hard thrusts and a satisfied grunt he slumped over her .
.
“Open your mouth,” came the almost gentle command.
Hermione raised her head once more and obligingly opened her mouth. She kept her eyes on the man now standing above her as he pumped his fist over his cock. His head fell back as his seed fell on her face and in her hair. She took him into her mouth as the last ofspilspilled into her mouth, and she swallowed eagerly, loving his taste.
Hermione scooped up some of the cooling liquid from her cheek and sucked it off her finger. She looked up and removed her finger from her mouth as her husband yanked the mask from his face and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. She hardly noticed when the body behind her moved, releasing her arms, and a wet tongue lapped at the seed on her face.
“Mmm, just as sweet as I remember,” Blaise Zabini commented.
Draco laughed and kissed his former lover as he nestled Hermione in his arms then kissed the top of her head. “I am so lucky to have such a lusty, kinky wife,” he murmured into her hair.
“Good thing, Darling, because next time I’m going to be the Dark Lord,” Hermione said a g a grin as she snuggled in the dual embrace of her husband and their lover.