Inspired by Alice Cooper - Poison

The door had barely fallen shut behind Tom when he whirled Hermione around, pressed her against the wall and attacked her. All the time since she had stoically accepted the Dark Mark, he had only been waiting to finally be alone with her. She had done what he demanded. She had not embarrassed him, on the contrary, she had proven to Rufus and Abraxas that even delicate girls like her could withstand pain. He had hardly been able to wait to finally have her to himself.

Sighing and groaning, Hermione returned his kisses. Her skin glowed, her eyes were closed, and she gave herself to him completely. It was a satisfying feeling to see his girl respond to him like this. But at the same time, another feeling stirred inside him. Something he could not put his finger on yet. He only knew one thing: he needed more. She should prove to him that she belonged to him. She should scream his name and forget everything else in the world.

Almost of his own accord, his hand moved to her throat. Enclosed it and squeezed. A strangled gasp sounded. Small hands dug into his chest, pushing him away. Brown eyes stared at him in horror.

"Hermione," Tom breathed without loosening his grip, "give yourself to me. Play with me. Show me what you're made of."

Desperately Hermione struggled against him, but Tom was stronger than her. The hand that was wrapped so tightly around her throat made her panic, but when she perceived his soft words, she realised what was happening. Hesitantly, she stopped trying to push him away from her, and in the same measure that she gave up her resistance, the grip loosened. She did not know what exactly Tom was up to, but one thing was certain: it would dwarf anything she had known before. A strange fever seemed to have taken hold of him, a fire blazing in his eyes that suggested an insatiable desire. She shuddered.

Was she really ready to give herself completely to this man? Did she trust him enough?

No. The answer was a clear, unequivocal No. Tom had made it clear several times that her life belonged to him. That he would decide her death. If he wanted, he would kill her here and now. She could not trust him on this point. She did not trust him.

But there was something inside her, this blackness that had frightened her before. Like a dangerous predator, it tore at her insides, demanding to be released. She wanted to see it. She wanted to feel it.

"Okay," she finally whispered, "let's play a game."

The look on Tom's eyes clearly showed that he did not expect that answer, but immediately his astonishment disappeared and gave way to immense hunger. "You are like sweet poison to me, Hermione. I want to taste you, everything about you, but I fear it will be the undoing of us both."

Pained, she smiled at him. "So poetic today, Tom. Just so you know. You're just as poisonous to me. I know you're as cold as ice. Sometimes I wonder if blood even runs through your veins, you're so ruthless. When I writhe in pain under your hands, you blossom. It excites you to see me break."

Tom's expression was serious as he listened to her words, but when he interrupted, his voice was rough and drenched in lust, "And it excites you when I cause you pain."

Hermione did not have to answer that. They both knew it was true. Nervously, she moistened her lips. What was Tom up to?

"Will you tell me what you want before I give my consent?"

His breath suddenly came in quick, audible gasps. He licked his lips as well before nodding. "Of course."

"All right," she agreed without batting an eye.

For a moment longer Tom held her gaze, breathing heavily and noticeably aroused, then he pushed himself off the wall and drew his wand. Briefly, his gaze wandered around his room until finally, shrugging, he sauntered to the bed. A casual wave of the wand and his bedspread became a very, very long rope.

"Deliver yourself to me," he commanded, the rope in his hands as his gaze wandered greedily up and down her figure.

She had to be insane to actually go for it, but Hermione did not hesitate for a second. The heat of lust that had already gripped her down in the chamber held her captive. She wanted to see how far he would go. How far she could go.

Without taking her eyes off him, she began to unbutton her blouse. Slowly, but with fluid movements, she peeled layer by layer off herself as she walked with equally slow steps towards the bed. Tom remained silent, just watching her with undisguised hunger in his eyes. She did not hesitate to get rid of her underwear as well. This whole endeavour had only one goal, even the smallest piece of fabric would merely get in the way.

"Sit down," Tom instructed her once she was completely naked, "With your pretty bottom on your heels."

Carefully Hermione balanced herself on her knees on her bed, then sank back to sit in the commanded position.

"Arms behind your back, grab your elbows with your hands."

Again, she did not hesitate. Praising her, Tom stroked her hair several times, then joined her on the bed, the rope gripped tightly between his hands, and began to tie it loop by loop around her torso. The rope was rough and Hermione already knew that she would probably chafe. But Tom tied it tightly without cutting off her blood supply completely, which was at least a small ray of hope. Within no time, she could no longer move her arms and she was aware in a previously unknown way of her own breasts, which had also been encircled by the rope.

"Tom," she hestitantly whispered to draw attention to her discomfort, but immediately he pressed a finger against her lips.

"Shhhh, my heart," he whispered to her, "It is not for you to speak now."

To add emphasis to his words, he reached for his pillow and transformed it as well. In his hands he now held a gag which had a large, hollow ball riddled with holes attached to it. An icy smile on his lips he commanded, "Open your mouth dear, be a good girl."

Briefly Hermione considered refusing the order, but she saw no real reason to do so. She could be stubborn later. Docilely, she opened her mouth wide enough for the ball to fit between her teeth. But no sooner had Tom fastened the gag than she regretted her decision. Her mouth was wide open, her tongue trapped, making it impossible for her to swallow. After only seconds she felt her saliva collecting, and shortly afterwards she blushed to find that she was actually drooling. Desperately, she sought Tom's eye contact, but he moved behind her and was intensely examining his work.

"You're doing very well, my dear," he murmured in praise as he stroked her again.

Then the pressure of his hands tightened and he forced her to lie flat on her stomach. The ropes were cutting in more uncomfortably now, especially around her breasts and shoulders. Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes, but she vowed not to break right at the start.

"Don't forget to press your heels against your cute little bottom," Tom reminded her. She quickly complied, although it took her a great effort to hold the position.

Immediately Tom's hands were there, again with the rope, which he wrapped roughly around her thighs, ensuring that her legs were held in this uncomfortable position. Tom put loop after loop around her legs, robbing her of her freedom of movement bit by bit, until finally she could not move a muscle without causing herself pain. She could do no more, say no more, move no more. She lay at his mercy on her bed, on her stomach, could only see out of the corner of her eye how Tom moved several times to each side of the bed to admire his work. A small pool of her saliva was slowly forming on the mattress under the corner of her mouth.

Hermione's breath came in quick, frantic gasps. She was completely at Tom's mercy. She no longer had any control over her own body. What she wanted no longer counted. As if Tom had flipped a switch inside her, her whole world suddenly consisted only of the bed on which she lay and the man who eyed her with an ice-cold gaze. All thoughts of the outside world disappeared. She felt like she was in a tunnel.

"You're such a good girl," Tom's wondrously gentle voice came from behind her. Hermione saw him enter her field of vision and then she felt him loosen her gag.

Hastily she licked her lips, swallowing, trying to hide all signs that she had been drooling, but Tom gave her no chance. He grabbed her chin and lifted her head slightly so he could look into her eyes. "You look beautiful like that, my love."

With those words he bent over her and lifted her up. A scream escaped Hermione as the ropes cut into her sensitive flesh in several places, but Tom did not care. He lifted her off the bed and set her back down on the floor in front of it so that she was once again sitting on her own two feet.

"You have a talented mouth, love," he declared with a grin as he stood in front of her and teasingly slowly undid a belt, "I think it's about time you put it to good use."

"Tom, I don't know...", Hermione started, but again he cut her off.

"Trust me, my heart," he said softly as he placed a hand on her cheek, "Let me decide how far we go. Trust me to know your limits. I know what's good for you."

Nervously, she licked her lips. Every fibre of her body ached, but she could not deny that it felt good. She could not deny that heat was spreading between her legs when Tom finally unzipped his pants completely and stroked his cock up and down with one hand, the other still resting on her cheek.

"Open your mouth, Hermione," Tom commanded urgently, "Come on, show me you're not giving up so easily."

She hated him for always appealing to her pride as soon as she showed resistance, but she followed the command anyway. Her jaw still ached a little from the gag, yet she did as she was told. Carefully, unsure of what exactly to do, she let her tongue roam over its tip. The suppressed groan in response was worth all the effort. Courageously, she opened her mouth even more to be able to close her lips completely around him.

Another moan encouraged her, the effects of which Hermione instantly felt between her legs. By Merlin, Tom's arousal made her quiver with pleasure herself. He might have tied her up, he might be standing before her dressed, but she was the one who made him make such uncontrolled sounds. With growing confidence, she let her tongue run over his hard length while at the same time slowly moving her head back and forth. Tied up, she had little control over her body, but it was enough to give Tom satisfaction.

"You are doing very well, my dear," Tom groaned. His hands reached for her tangled curls and gripped tightly to hold her head in place. Then he began to pace his thrusts.

With each time he penetrated her mouth a little deeper. Desperately Hermione tried to let go, to relax her throat to counteract the gag reflex, but Tom gave her no time to get used to him. She gave up running her tongue along his length, concentrating instead entirely on breathing through her nose to keep from choking. He was not moaning now. A glance up showed Hermione that he was staring down at her with ice-cold eyes.

"Look at you," he sneered, "Always pretending to be such a strong woman. Thinking you can be my equal. But in reality, you're just a dirty mudblood. A willing woman who submits to a man without question. That I find pleasure in subduing and abusing you is perfectly natural. It is the primal instinct in us men to want to claim a woman for ourselves. But you? Just look at yourself! What must it look like inside you to enjoy being tied up? You like me to fuck your mouth, don't you? The pain, the humiliation - it turns you on. You are so depraved. So broken."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. Her jaw muscles burned; she felt an urgent need to close her mouth again, but still Tom sank deep inside her without slowing down. His words struck her, even though she knew they were intended to hurt her. He wanted to prove to her once again that he was everything and she was nothing. Still, it hurt. Because he was right. The pain, the humiliation, even his words now, all only aroused her more.

Suddenly he withdrew from her completely. Gratefully, she shut her mouth and greedily sucked in air through her nose. Hard, his hand settled under her chin. "Listen to me carefully, Hermione."

His voice sounded serious as he stared urgently into her eyes. "I want you to trust me, okay? Tell me that you trust me and that it's okay if I go further."

Gasping, she stared at him. What did he mean, keep walking? What was he going to do? Immediately his grip tightened even more. "Talk to me, Hermione. We can't do this if you won't talk to me. I know you want to, but you have to tell me."

Sniffling, she took a breath. "Okay. All right."

A wide grin tugged at his lips. "That's a good girl. That's my girl. Come on, open your mouth again."

She swallowed again, then complied. Slower than before, Tom let his cock slide into her wet mouth, but this time he did not pause. With his hands buried in her hair again, he carefully shifted the position of her head to change the angle slightly, then pushed on. Reflexively, Hermione gagged. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she fought desperately for control. She swallowed, blinked, and still Tom continued to push into her.

"You're doing so well, dear," Tom murmured softly before pulling out again.

Hectically, Hermione took a breath. She was not able to breathe when he was so deep inside her, and her throat ached. But Tom was not finished yet. Again, he positioned his cock directly in front of her and angled her head so that she was looking directly at him. "I want you to take a really deep breath now, okay? Take a nice deep breath."

Before Hermione really understood why he said that, he forced her mouth open again and slid in. Deeply she sucked in the air through her nose. Again, he pushed his cock all the way into her mouth, but instead of slowly sliding back out, he now gripped her hair tighter. Fixing her head like this, he thrust into her, faster and faster, without mercy.

Hermione could not breathe. She could not move. Her jaw hurt, her eyes watered, and she felt saliva running down her chin. Even the pain the rope caused on her body was forgotten. Her world now consisted only of Tom's cock and the violent, rapid thrusts deep in her throat. Panic rose in her. Would he let go of her before she choked? His gaze still rested icy cold on her, but she saw the film of sweat spreading on his skin.

A slight dizziness seized her. Heat rose from between her legs, arousal spreading through her body. Colourful spots danced before her eyes. She had to breathe, now. Desperately, she tried to escape Tom's iron grip, but he held her mercilessly. Her eyes fell shut; her muscles went limp. Still Tom did not stop his movements. Blackness enveloped Hermione.

And suddenly she could breathe again. Nothing mattered but taking in the precious air. With her mouth agape, she coughed and swallowed, feeling as if she could not breathe in enough oxygen. And as the first deep breaths reached her lungs, the arousal in her flared up, shot through her body, until it exploded in an orgasm so intense Hermione could do nothing more but lay there and let her body take over.

Warm liquid hit her cheek. Exhausted, she opened her eyes and just saw Tom come right on top of her with a few hard movements of his hand. Her whole body was shaking. The pain was slowly returning. She could take no more. As intense as the orgasm had been, she felt exhausted beyond measure.

She had trusted him and he rewarded her in away she would have never dreamt of. Her eyes fell close and she gave herself over to the exhaustion.