WARNINGS: HEAVY ADULT CONTENT!! DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE A MINOR!! CONTAINS SCENES OF AN EXPLICIT UNCONSENTUAL SEXUAL NATURE, THAT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR THOSE WITH WEAK STOMACHS!! READ NO FURTHER IF THIS APPLIES TO YOU!!
If you're of age and have a strong stomach, feel free to read on and enjoy this twisted fic, that I do not own.
The Taste of a Mudblood.
"Welcome to hell. Choose your next words carefully," Malfoy snarled, holding Hermione in an iron grip. She struggled against him, but felt his teeth graze her neck once more. It was just a warning; but she shuddered in agony as his hands cut the flow of blood to her hands.
"If that's how you wanna play…" he murmured, his knee sliding between her legs and forcing them apart. Between him and the damp, disgusting wall of his basement, she had nowhere to go. One of his hands left hers, and she heard him unzipping his pants. She let out a sob, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to imagine that she was anywhere else. The illusion worked for a full minute, before rough, distinctively male, hands tore at the pathetic cloth substituting a dress. In a place like this, you didn't often need clothes. Hermione bit her lip as he fondled her breasts, his arousal rubbing over her ass.
"Please…" she whispered, hoping beyond hope that he'd show a little mercy and not have her. He heard her plea and released her, turning her to face him.
"Look at me," he said softly, in a friendly tone even. Hermione didn't trust him a bit, but she obeyed anyway. It was less painful if she obeyed. He took her chin in one large hand, squeezing enough to hurt. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she was grateful that the scene was blurred. She could no longer see the three other girls in her position with their own personal torturers, even if she could still hear their cries of pain. One was being whipped, while another had two men- one sitting on her face and another pounding into her roughly- and the third had her hands tied above her head, her feet shackled to the ground, and a man had his dick firmly placed in her ass, with what Hermione assumed was a vibrator in her pussy.
"You're a slut. A whore," Malfoy hissed, biting at Hermione's neck. She whimpered, but held back a cry. He wouldn't get that satisfaction. His hands left her suddenly, and she dared to open her eyes. He stood directly before her, smiling happily. He reached out with his right hand and stroked Hermione's cheek, his eyes hardening and his free hand touching himself.
"How old are you?" he asked. Hermione swallowed, her throat running dry. He always asked her one question; the first time it had been are you a virgin? (yes… please don't…)the second time, it was how did you enjoy last night? (don't, it hurts…)and now, it was for her age. She met his eyes for the first time.
"F-fifteen," she said, not without a slight stutter. The sound of her voice made something in her attacker click, for he took a half-step toward her, his right hand on her firm, perky breasts, and his left stroking at her smooth, clean-shaven folds. Hermione held her breath, knowing what was coming. With strength beyond Hermione's, lifted her into his arms and lay with her on the ground, kissing her fervently. She kept her eyes open, looking at the ceiling and praying he'd be quick.
One finger slipped inside her, and Hermione's cry was muffled by his mouth still on hers. He moved in a circular motion, and despite her disgust, Hermione felt herself moistening. Her tears rolled freely down her cheeks as he added a second finger, and a third. He forced her legs further apart, still moving inside her. His mouth left hers and attached to her left breast, suckling and nipping at the sensitive flesh. Now free, Hermione let little sobs and cries escape her, especially when his fingers withdrew and he rose to his haunches above her head. His penis stood thick and long, a terrifying and intimidating sight. Hermione snapped her mouth closed to keep him out; she wasn't going to let him take his pleasure from her without a fight. He rubbed against her lips, then pressed harder. She moved her head so he couldn't touch her.
"Have it your way," Malfoy growled, forcing her head around again. His mouth descended on hers, his tongue forcing her lips open and running along her teeth. He leaned back, and shoved his fingers brutally back inside her, making her gasp in pain. Quicker than she could react, he had shoved his penis down her throat.
Hermione coughed and spluttered, trying to force him out with her tongue. All she got was her hair viciously pulled, and he thrust deeper into her mouth. Using her hair, he forced her to take him all in, his tip grazing the back of her throat. She gave a small moan of fear, the vibrations spurring him on. He thrust again and again, until her lips were cherry red and he couldn't hold on anymore. Hermione was on the verge of passing out, she could barely breathe, when he suddenly exploded into her. She retched violently, some of his seed spilling out the sides of her mouth. He stayed in her until he was done, and finally pulled away.
"Enjoy that, did you, whore?" he asked, tugging at her hair fiercely. Hermione coughed again, glad for the respite when he threw her back on the ground. She rolled onto her side and spat, trying to rid herself of his taste. She could feel him watching her, but she didn't care. When his hands caressed her shoulders, she couldn't help it. Hermione vomited her meagre breakfast, and whatever little else was in her stomach.
"You disgust me," he snarled, entangling his hand in her dark brown hair again.
"Dear God…" Hermione cried as he pulled her around to face him. Her eyes couldn't help but flicker down to his dick; and she wished she was blind. He was painfully hard again, and that meant her night wasn't done yet. Slowly, almost tenderly- if such a word could be used correctly- he pushed her legs apart. Hermione didn't even try to fight him this time, she just let him. It seemed all her fight had gone. She did let out a pained cry when he entered her for the third time since he'd abducted her a week ago, but he slapped her silent. She could feel the bruises on her cheek flare again, adding to those on the insides of her thighs and her upper arms.
"You like it, don't you?" he hissed, moving at a slow yet steady pace. Hermione didn't reply; her eyes had glazed over just like the other few times he'd raped her. Her lack of response only fuelled him faster, until the pain and terror and disgust mingled and broke through Hermione's protective mental barrier. Each time he slammed into her, every bite he left on her, whenever his hands squeezed hard enough to leave bruises, she yelped. He took the pleas and the cries to be pleasure, and held himself in check until Hermione screamed aloud, her voice filling the chamber. She clenched together, causing more pain as he thrust violently through her defences, until she felt his pace slow as he neared his peak. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he pushed deeper, willing unconsciousness to take her and spare her the pain.
With two more strokes, he erupted inside her, and Hermione involuntarily clenched her muscles at the invasion of foreign fluid. He kept at it, and she wondered at his stamina. She felt sick, disgusted with herself, but she did sigh with relief as he slowly pulled out of her, his hands leaving her body battered on the ground, her spirit broken. Slowly, the other four men left the room, leaving the four teenagers in silence and darkness.