Disclaimer: The story is mine, the characters are not.
Alert! Mature content.
Enjoy it!
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The bait
by XL Nozes
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Her fingers felt heavy and her skin, warm. With effort, she moved her right arm to the left side, trying to turn around. Her throat worked trying to swallow, but there was not enough saliva. The fabric beneath her buttocks was soft and warm. It seemed very inviting. Her eyelids struggled to lift and expose her brown eyes.
"Are you awake?"
What had happened came running like a set of flashes in sequence. The heat, the sweat, the bodies glued together.
She buried her face against the rug with a grunt.
"We did ... Did we ... did we?", the question was stupid, but necessary. If they had not, hm, copulated, the spell they had placed on her would be useless.
"Not in the way you're thinking."
He moved to stand directly in front of her, sitting down on the couch. Hermione watched his fingers hide beneath the dark fabric. She felt defeated. If she could think clearly, that meant the spell was no longer working, right? It meant that the only active spell was the one that made the feet of her life span run faster.
She exhaled, unable to deal with the man she was supposed to be killing.
"I thought we could talk now."
Her forehead pressed against the rug as she thought. There was not much to lose now, was there?
With all her remaining dignity, she bent her right leg to rise. Only the lack of containment of the fabric that would usually disturb her made her remember that she was practically naked. Her movements froze, only her eyeballs moved, trying to locate the piece of unhappy cloth. Right beside him lay her skirt. Crushed and damp. She sat up as one hand pulled the sides of her shirt to close it and the other palmed the floor. Her attempt only ended so quickly because the boy understood her actions and reached for her skirt before anything else, handing it to her.
Hermione's already pink cheeks seemed to catch fire as the embarrassment of the situation escalated progressively with the difficulty of replacing a wet skirt.
The Dark Lord stared at the window calmly, as if there was no half-naked girl struggling on his living room rug.
"Ready to talk?"
Her frown was an indication that no, she was not ready to talk, but there was no other choice.
She sat in the armchair perpendicular to him, ignoring the dampness of her clothes.
"You want to start by telling me how you came here?", his tone was gentle and grave and made points of her body contract.
"No".
There was a small moment of silence before he spoke again:
"I'll try to guess, and you may correct me, alright?"
She breathed in, staring at the window.
"At age eleven, twelve, your house was attacked by the Dark Lord. You were raised by a set of special people, with magical powers, from the village. They have been protecting the village for many years. Very traditional families that dedicate exclusively to this duty."
Without anything to argue, Hermione remained silent.
"There are few living like you, all with similar stories. The Dark Lord has a very specific taste. He has put a curse on you all, but the elders have a ritual that reduces the effect. You work for the families of the elders, and in return, once a week they give you a potion and take away the "spoiled blood.""
Her scrutiny went from the dark of the trees to the vivid greens of his eyes.
"You did not live in our village. Does news travel so far?"
He wiggled, looking at her intently. Then she leaned back against the couch.
"No, but the story is the same in several of the villages that surround the forest. Even mine. I do not want to prolong this conversation, because we have only a short time before the spell is back in effect."
"Has the spell not ended?", she interrupted, her body jumping forward, her eyelids high.
"No, I could not get it out alone, I'd need help or a potion. But it takes a few days to get it ready."
"So what is it? Why don't I feel the effects?"
"Desire reduces after an injection of pleasure. It will return progressively."
"But I could keep up with shots of pleasure until the potion's ready, right?"
The Lord looked into her eyes for a moment before denying.
"For a day, perhaps; every time the spell will come stronger. It's more probable for you to go crazy before I finish the potion. Anyway, we would still have the other two spells to deal with."
Hermione pursed her lips, forgetting for a moment.
"Can't you slow down their action?"
"I could postpone death for a maximum of two hours."
Her outraged curls swayed as she stood up.
"Where are you going?", his response was quick and a little breathless as he stood up with her.
"You're telling me there's nothing to do. I intend to go to the forest to hope that some animal will kill me or that the spell will take effect and soon I will go mad. Thank you for your attention."
The speech would have had more effect if her skirt had not stopped her hurried steps toward the door and if the Lord had not been faster than herself and had held her by her arm, making her body turn like a door, banging against the back of the couch, facing him. The warmth of his hand vibrated, piling up before exploding, running up her arm. She pulled away as if she had been burned.
"Shit!", he cursed, pulling his arm away. "Sorry, I think we'll have less time now. I did not say there's nothing to do, I just said the things I can't do."
Her fingers tightened on the sofa as her knees came together. The Lord watched her wide-eyed, not knowing what to do.
"I do not have the strength alone, but maybe you could help me."
She nodded, keeping the focus on his voice.
"They have chosen you for a reason, you have a dense magical core. I've only seen such a nucleus once in all my life."
Her confused face was the reason he tried explaining again.
"I do not have time to explain the whole story. What I can say is that I feel the magic coming from you, if your story is like mine, as soon as you stop with the potions of the elders and the sangrias, your powers will explode. Here" - his hand turned to scrape her belly button - "I can feel your strength pulsing. It feels like it will come out soon."
She could also feel something pulsating inside her, in the same rhythm as his warmth pulsed for her, at the trot of his heartbeat.
"I propose that we use this force of yours to potentiate their binding spell, letting compulsion follow its course. Only the death spell will last for us to resolve. Alone, I can't dissipate it, but with a strong connection to another magical core, especially one so dense, I can get it out of you and divert it back."
His removal made her realize that the heat she felt was no longer the male fingerprints, but something generated within herself. Her nipples brushed gently against her shirt, her thighs tightening and making wet little noises between her legs.
"I can add some things to their bonding spell, make it stronger. We could get rid of this situation without either being dead."
Her knuckles went white from holding the fabric. Her brown orbs fixed on his lips, trying to understand something in his words beyond the seductive breath that asked her to kiss him.
"But the death spell would work because the binding spell would tie our lives-"
"Yes." He looked her straight in the eyes as he answered. Her hesitation kept him going. "It would only mean that we would live together and that I could teach you everything that was hidden from you about magic. We do not have to be anything but housemates."
Throughout the speech, Hermione had made a point of keeping her concentration on his face, trying to understand his motives despite the blurred feeling that started in the corners of her mind, if there was a possibility that he was trying to use her as the elders had done. His expression was too open and confused.
"What is your intention?"
His eyes faltered before focusing on her again.
"I do not want to be alone here ..."
"Other villages?"
"All under influence of the elders, they would know who I am and would not let me live there. I've... ", he swallowed, "tried".
Her body leaned forward as the girl pressed her hips against the back of the sofa.
"I really wanted you to make that decision with your head freed from the spell."
She gasped against the sofa, sliding to a sitting position against it.
The Lord came around the furniture and picked her up, laying her on the couch.
"I'll give you an injection of pleasure. As soon as you wake up, I want you to think of the answer to my propo-."
His sentence was not finished, because in seconds Hermione had gathered strength to pull him by the neck and to sink her lips to his. The Lord was more straightforward and quicker this time, sliding two fingers between her legs, steadily entering her. Her hips rose, slamming the top of her mount of Venus against the base of his palm. The boy held her and wrapped his hand around her, finger-tapping inside her against a rougher chunk, making her muscles vibrate with pleasure. With little resistance, he made her lower her hips and then pulled her to him, back towards the floor, and bent himself over her to place his mouth against her heat center.
Small needles of pleasure penetrated her flesh, and Hermione let out a grunt as her arms flapped behind seeking something that could hold her, pin her to the ground. The fingers of her right hand palpated and finally landed on his thigh, where Hermione dug her fingernails and decorated it with little half-moons.
Only then did she realize that her eyelids had dropped. She lifted them with regret, calculating how she would get his mouth back against hers, not quite sure if she wanted him to stop what he was doing. But she needed something pressed against her lips or she would burst into screaming.
The instinct to bite him was stronger than the confusion or the shyness, and soon Hermione pulled his trousers and saw the full cheeks of the stiffer, hotter flesh she had ever encountered. She felt him withdraw from her to breathe in grimly. The male forehead rested on her right thigh, sweat pouring down from his skin to mingle with her juices.
"I need …", he inspired a few times before trying again, "Every time something feels really good, I need you to you enjoy it. Then when it is almost time to explode, stop a little and start again, okay?"
She wanted to say no, that she intended to give herself up the first time the pleasure that began to form in her crotch rose. She managed to shake her head weakly, tapping his tip against the inside of her cheeks and making him gasp.
"It's to make the connection stronger."
The growl she let go was long and trembled against the thin skin of his glans. The male fingers kept a stable back and forth, but his tongue could not, pausing at times. Each time his warm breath approached, Hermione anticipated the contact by pushing her hips against his square jaw. The toes of her feet were ballet tips while she tried to coordinate them with the rough tongue movements that surrounded her swollen lips. His hand gripped her hair and his hips bucked against her face, his head slammed against the back of Hermione's throat and the girl found herself trying to swallow, unable to breath, the breathlessness obscured her vision, the tips of her fingers became numb, her whole body vibrated, his moans, the strength of his hand, pushed that little piece of her body that felt more pleasure against his tongue, so, but so close.
His hips jumped and he let go, settling again to suck her with more vigor. The reestablishment of the air made her limbs flare and her vision return to normal.
Hermione was not sure how long she'd been like this, with him taking her to the edge of the cliff without actually letting her fall. She counted four times that she became almost out of breath - she waited anxiously for these moments. She tried to keep her eyes focused at some point, to control her vision at least, but her eyes kept turning back with noises of pleasure she did not know whether came from her or from him. She felt the pleasure pulsing and exhaling through her pores, the side of her body warming as they brushed against the floor, sweat piling up, running in small crooked lines through the curves of bare bodies, piling up in the skin folds, tempering her lips with a salty taste of pleasure.
Now her two hands held his thighs, bringing him inside her with desire. The tip of her tongue beat against the thin skin just below his glans, running straight toward the base. His fingerprints flashed into the small volume of fluffy flesh and his lips made a pulsing circle that vibrated against her clit. His other hand gripped the back of her neck as he settled his glans against her throat and hoped she would begin to swallow. The tingling sensation took her feet and hands, the edges of her vision darkened, her mouth slowly opening into a smile she controlled so she could suck him again. The set of shocks that his fingers sent with the waves of pleasure that his lips distributed met the sensation on her limbs. Unlike the other times, the Lord did not turn away from her. Her mind began to spin, instinctively she jerked her head away from his hips. The firm male hand held her. The arches of her feet trembled and threw themselves, stretching the female body like a long, tense stick, her thighs holding the long fingers inside her. Whatever was inside her burst through her navel, swallowing what was inside her, her mind whirled around, fading away with the tingling of his fingers, replacing it with a contented weight that swept over her drifting her to sleep.
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Author's Notes:
Constructive reviews are always welcome.
I would like to send a special thanks to ctc1000, pawsrule, werevampluvr and to BratGirl1983, who took their time to send me words of incentive.
The thoughtful ctc1000 posted a review that had a pertinent consideration, so I'll answer it here as well.
I have a preference for non-omniscient narrators. In this case, the whole perspective is Hermione's, and given her conditions to think what is happening, there is not much clarity about who the Dark Lord is. This was intentional :D
See y'all,
Aunt Nuts.