Hey! I hope you like this story, it is my first. I didn't put a note on the first chappie because I was still learning how to use this program, tee hee! If you have any suggestions for me, please review. In fact, please review weather or not you have something to say.
Sorry this one's so short, more on the way!
Later, -Toria
Hermione stepped out onto the platform. Below her, about ten feet down stood about thirty men, dressed in tatters, staring hungrily up at her.
The room had no windows, and was small and dingy. Candles hung in the air levitated by magic, to cast an eerie shadow on everything. She heard some music begin to play. (a/n: Hermione loves to dance. She can't sit still while there's music playing, so that explains this next part. Or maybe the music was charmed. Yeah, I like that. Charmed music it is.) It sounded middle eastern, but there was something about it that made Hermione feel compelled to dance. Right before she started, she noticed a man sitting in the corner. He wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to her. For some reason, this made her happy and angry at the same time. Happy that he was one less person to bother with her, and angry because he didn't seem to like her.
First she started swaying her hips in time with the music. Then she subtly stroked her thigh, keeping the swaying hips going. The music took hold of her. It must have been charmed, because Hermione had never even seen something like what she was doing now, much less done it before. The dance was more like she was having sex with herself than anything she could think of. It actually felt good, and the leather straps were free to move in. Everything was going sort of okay, (besides the fact that she felt very self conscious in straps and triangles) but then the platform started lowering. The men started jumping about, and calling claims to her as to whom got her first, second, and so on. Then someone shouted that they should just all have her at once. This proved popular. Through it all, Hermione was held by the charmed music. Until the music stopped.
The first man to touch her was a tall burly man who was probably in his late fifties. He reached out and grabbed the strap that attached the top to the bottom half of her costume, and yanked her down from the platform. She screamed as four more men grabbed her and started touching her in places no one but herself had touched before. Suddenly, her whole body was alive with feelings; pain, as the first man ripped away the upper half of the leather/canvas contraption, more pain as he and others started licking and biting her breasts and clawing them with their hands, anger at them for being so needy, and beneath it all, as all form of clothing was ripped away from her, a certain lustful wanting, a wild craze for the sex that was on everyone in the room's mind.
It scared her, this lust, for with each thrust came more pain, more lust. These men, they were huge, and she marveled that they fit inside her at all.
The man in her now looked young, not much older than Hermione herself. As he thrust himself into her again and again, his mouth found her breast, and he bit and licked, and rubbed with his hand her other one. Again she screamed, but this time in anticipation of the oncoming orgasm, which hit her like a bomb. Her hands shot out, her whole body could not contain all the lust that was burning her inside out. Then her body went limp. She could not move a muscle, could not here the grunts of pain from the man inside her as she shrank to an extremely small size (you'd be hard pressed to fit a pencil in her) while he stayed as big as ever, along with the thuds as men got hit in the head with rocks that were being thrown from the far corner by a man who, with the strength of his great will power, had kept his hands clean of rape, and perhaps murder. For he had no idea is she were dead or alive, so limp she had become.