Even in her dazed state, Hermione could realize that things had reached an absurd state.
His hand pushing against her back under her shirt was excessive, but could be argued as necessary. The excuse about why his hand was on her thigh, rubbing repeatedly was similarly justified, especially since it was significantly reducing the pain she had been feeling from the moment.
Yet, when those were combined with the weight against her back that, highlighted the state of a certain part of his anatomy, things took a different complexion.
Hermione bit her lips as she tried to come up with a way to raise that subject, but her clouded mind came empty. Well, stating that as empty would have been a misnomer. It was just that, her mind was occupied more with different questions.
Like, how a man could have such a big … thing. It wasn't that she was inexperienced with things. She had played with Ron more than once, even though they were limited to some over-the-clothes action, and she had seen what Harry had been packing accidentally when they were camping the last year.
Yet, neither was anything close to that size.
It took a while for her to realize she had been distracted once more, and that only happened when she realized, his right hand, which was rubbing her thigh, had slipped under her skirt while her hazy mind had been lost on the implications of his great size.
That was enough to tell her that, no matter her hazy her mind was, the situation had been developing to an absurd level. Yet, she failed to stand up, as, without any fabric in the way, the massage felt much better.
Enough to drain her remaining strength, the portion that was vital for her to stand up.
She bit her lips, hoping that it wouldn't last for long. "Now, shift to the other leg," the order came, and she found herself following that, helpless under his voice… His hand followed, and shifted from one thigh to another.
This time, however, his fingers stayed on her inner thighs, each pass getting closer to her core. She bit her lips as she tried to collect her willpower, determined to ask him to stop if he ever touched her panties.
Unfortunately, it was too late when she realized the dangers of such a singular focus. While she was busy trying to trace the movement of his right hand, she ignored his right hand's movements as they danced on her back.
Until, with a pull, he had pulled her bra free. She had no idea how he managed to do so without removing her shirt, but she failed to do so. "I need to … go," she whispered as she jumped up to her feet. Of course, with the muscles of his arms, there was no way for her to succeed in such a thing without him allowing so.
She hoped that it was the end, but that died when her view darkened for a moment. The sudden movement didn't work well with her exhaustion, and she found herself falling.
Right into the naked arms of her new professor.
"Careful, Miss Granger, you're in no condition to walk," her professor said, but she was less concerned with the sudden silkiness of his tone, and more occupied by the way he held her against her naked chest.
She tried to recoil, but that was foiled by nothing but her own body, as she found her arms wrapped around his waist, his fingers caressing his muscles.
Betrayal, and from her own body.
While she processed her own reaction, her professor slowly dragged her toward the large couch, and she found herself lying. "Let's continue stretching you, beautiful," he whispered.
The sudden change of referral would have been concerning, but compared to his other activities, it was barely a footnote. Before she could react, she found her legs placed on his shoulders, his movement stretching her body in a way she wasn't used to. Yet this time, the discomfort didn't come from the pain it generated.
But his presence, pressed against her panties. Her skirt prevented her from seeing what was going on, but the radiating warmth suggested that his shorts were not in between anymore. She suddenly felt that, her panties were a very weak barrier.
Yet, as she opened her mouth, only a moan escaped. The reason, his hands landed on her breasts, and the treatment was more than enough to replace her words with a moan. Once again, she couldn't help but compare the touch of her boyfriend… With results that left her feeling a great deal of guilt.
"Professor…"
"Don't worry, Miss Granger, I'm very impressed with the dedication of your new role. Keep your mouth shut, and as long as I could make a proper judgment about your flexibility, the role is yours."
"But —" she started, only for him to put his finger on her lips, which was enough to silence her, her gaze locked in his dangerous smile.
"We just need to make sure you can stretch without the slightest encumbrance."
It was a testament to her confused state that she failed to understand the implications of his statement before he grabbed her shirt with both hands, a pull enough to rip that off, buttons flying everywhere. And since her bra had been stolen earlier, it left her breasts naked.
Temporarily, technically, but considering they were covered with his shockingly large hands, Hermione wasn't sure how much of an improvement that was.
She had never had someone touch her breasts directly, as even on the occasions she allowed Ron to slip his hands under her shirt, her bra was always on the way to restrict the sensation…
As he squeezed her breasts, awakening sensations she had never felt before Hermione started to lose her remaining sense of control…
As Darion squeezed Hermione's supple breasts, he couldn't help but feel thankful for the miracle that deposed him to a new world.
Hermione's breasts were amazing, top class among the great number he had been acquainted with, but it was her reaction that turned it into a marvelous pleasure.
She was shocked by the intensity of the pleasure, which suggested that she was even less experienced than he had been expecting. A rather excellent surprise, he decided as he squeezed her breasts, listening to the explosive moan that rose as a response.
"A skirt is not a good example of exercise clothing," he muttered soon when he let his hand travel down, and her skirt soon flew away at the cost of leaving one of her beautiful breasts naked. "And a beautiful young woman like you deserves better panties," he added as he grabbed the side of her panties.
"No, leave them alone," she gasped.
"Miss Granger, you'll find that I don't appreciate my assistants talking back," Darion answered as he brought his second hand down as well, which left her gorgeous breasts and tight stomach naked, giving him an excellent view of enjoying.
He could have easily grabbed both of her wrists with one hand while using the other to pull her panties down, but he decided to go with something more impressive. He grabbed both sides before yanking fiercely, and her old-fashioned panties failed to survive the pull, coming apart.
He expected her to gasp in shock, or protest, but he found her gazing down. It didn't take long to realize she had been gazing at his enormous shaft, lying against her stomach.
"So, Miss Granger, what's your opinion about the stretching aid I brought with me," he said with a mocking tone...
Hermione froze for a moment as the realization that she lay naked on her back beneath her new professor hit her. "Too big—" she answered reflexively before she could properly process his words. "Wait, stretching aid!" she gasped in shock.
"Naturally," Darion said as he leaned down, tensing her body further while using that as an opportunity to position against her entrance. "As an educator, I prefer to be through."
"No, I haven't done it before!" she gasped in panic.
"Oh," Darion murmured as the realization hit. "You're a virgin." She nodded, her blush beautiful.
"Then, we could try the alternative, Miss Granger," he said as he left his place, letting her legs fall back down. But before she could leverage that shift, she grabbed her shoulders and changed her position, so that her legs were pressing against the back of the sofa while the back of her head dangled freely.
Darion put his hands on her bushy hair, holding tight to make sure there would be no accident as he pressed the crown against her lips. "Now, open wide and show me how much you can stretch your throat.
Hermione hated the daze that covered her whole being as she followed his order and opened her lips, realizing that her initial assumption about her new professor and his inclinations was absolutely correct.
Not that it helped as she felt her body betray her and her lips parted open, refusing to listen to the rational part of her. A rational part that was even dimmer than the candles burning in the room as she drifted to a weird place, lost under the confusing feelings that invaded her body.
And, as she got lost in the pleasure, she lost the ability to reject the invasion of the shockingly thick member that was pressing against her lips, as dangerous as a siege, demanding entrance recklessly. She lost control as he established a foothold in her mouth, in the form of the head of his throbbing member…
Just like that, Hermione lost the ability to talk back, though considering that, for once in her life, she lacked words to use, it wasn't exactly a great loss.
"A good start, you white bitch, now work on the shaft," he said, the words almost more obscene than the … thing … in her mouth. Unfortunately, she had no chance of protesting as he slowly pushed forward, his great muscles turning into an inevitable conclusion as Hermione had the first oral experience of her life.
One that challenged her from two directions. A part was mental, as it was a dirty, disrespectful act that no feminist should ever accept. If only her body joined her in that conclusion and didn't react with distinct wetness between her legs.
The other, simpler part was physical, his thickness forcing her to open her mouth as wide as possible while he used its warmth for his benefit.
It was supposed to repulse her, but she was able to accept the invasion while her body experienced stirrings she had never felt before.
Then, the first gag arrived as he pushed more, teasing the entrance of her throat.
"Try to hold yourself back, sweetie, it's just a start," he said, which hardly helped her reaction as his crown slammed against the entrance of her throat, again and again, forcing her to get used to the unfamiliar sensation.
A sensation that was pleasurable as much as it was challenging, she realized, shame adding another layer to the full-body blush she had been feeling. The distaste she expected from such an act had been evaporating with a shocking speed, leaving its place for desire and arousal.
"Try to massage my balls, it will help it end quicker," he commented.
To her shame, Hermione realized she wasn't sure a quick end was what she wanted. However, that didn't prevent her from reaching to grab the incredible sack that was connected to the member that was busy invading her throat.
She started caressing it with surprising gentleness, unable to believe the size, or what would that size mean when the ultimate end hit and he climaxed.
"That's it, bitch, you're doing great," he said with a teasing tone, which, to her shock, awakened the same glorious feeling whenever she got another perfect score on her homework.
Just like that, she lost any sense of time as the world reduced to the rhythmic invasion of the shaft in her throat…