This is my first fanfiction, so I'm still getting used to all these fancy shmancy buttons, so no hate please! Constructive criticism will be excepted, so please enjoy! Also, watch out for Sherlock Easter egg, and also should I write a part two? No ones reading this anyway so yeah...
His sweaty, sticky hair was plastered down his face. Angry red marks line his bare back and ass. "I-I don't know! Fucking get of me mudblood!" He spat, as a whip added more scarlet, blood covered cuts onto his bruised and battered body. The young man struggled desperately in his bonds, wishing, praying to be saved, to no avail. The magic ropes that were tying him to the roof and floor of the prison bit into his wrists and ankles, successfully keeping him in place.
"Now now sweetheart, Voldemorts whereabouts are hidden somewhere in that thick skull of yours," whispered a sweet, sugary feminine voice. Hermione Granger, dressed in a skintight black latex outfit with strategic holes cut out for her nipples, pussy and ass toyed with her victim. Circling her prey, she brought her riding crop down on that fine, fine ass of his, earning a shriek. "Draco, Draco, tell me!"
Malfoy sobbed, not meeting the so innocent brown eyes of his torturer. Hermione laughed a very unhermione kind of laugh, still circling her frightened plaything. Suddenly serious, she said quietly, luscious chocolate curls dangling over her face as she leaned in to whisper into Draco's ear, "I could have you on that table, til you begged for mercy. Twice." Draco shook harder than ever. His mistress smiled. With a dainty flick of her wrist, the riding crop transformed into a wand, which unchained Draco from the floor and ceiling, and instead moved him to a table in the corner of the cell. Her womanhood suddenly became very warm and wet. This was getting interesting.
"No, please no! I don't know anything I don't"-"Crucio!" Shrieked the witch, causing her victim to scream in pain. He writhed around on the table, naked, chained, and covered in bruises and blood from all the times Hermione had beat him. "Are you sure Draco?" Her voice was suddenly much softer. He nodded, choking down a sob.
She tasted amazing, he thought as she slammed her mouth into his. Despite being beaten repeatedly and raped, Draco could still not help admiring his childhood crush. Her tongue explored a hidden region of his mouth and started trailing butterfly down his neck, and occasionally biting hard enough to draw blood. At his hip, just in front of his manhood, she stopped, making him whimper from both the surprising longing he felt and the pain of his injuries. "Fuck, G-Granger, d-don't stop," he whispered, his eyes half closed.
"What do you want me to do?" Hermione asked innocently, pouting at him.
"P-pleasure, p-p-please," he whispered, feeling his rock hard cock sticking out. She was about to say yes, but thought better of it.
"Oh but you called me by a rude word Draco," Hermione pouted again, pulling Draco's hair back to make him stare into her face. "And that means punishment, and I don't think you're learning from my riding crop, are you honey? Well... That means LICK!" At the last word, true terror showed in Draco's eyes as tight, wet pussy suffocated him. He started licking, because he had no choice. Above him, Hermione moaned in pleasure, as his tongue went over her clit, and started teasing her.
Without warning, the Dominatrix rose. "Enough! Now I shall make you beg," she commanded.