Chapter Five

The soft glimmering light coming from the chandelier at the ceiling illuminated her lovely figure as she leaned her tired body over the marble bathtub.

She sighed, hoping that the hot water would cast her weariness away. She let out a contented moan after soaking up for couples of minutes. Once her body relaxed and she could thinking clearly, she recalled her day. Bloody hell, he wasn't kidding when he said that their lesson would be hard. Every cell in her body was protested, physically exhausted by their previous activities.

Judging from his demeanor, she had suspected that he was an austere teacher. But man, she was underestimating him. He was the strictest teacher she had ever met. He was even worse than the snapper, Mrs. Perrington —the most forbidding teacher in her old school.

She was so perplexed, that man was truly an enigma. It was like he became another person when he was teaching her, still the same strict and menacing, but somehow different. But she couldn't put her finger on it. But he being ignorant was fine with her as she could somehow put this morning incident in the back of her mind. Look at the bright side, at least he really was a proficient mentor.

She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. And this is only you first day, Hermione. Yes, her first day but she'd already complained a lot.

But, thanks God, their session went relatively well, for her at least. She felt so grateful; when they were on their lessons, she felt like a person, not just his toy —an existence beyond mere a possession.

After they'd done with their breakfast that morning, he led her to his personal lab that could be accessed through his solar room. Like most manors in the western Scotland, the solar built facing the south to maximizing the advantage of daylight. The room was warm and comforting, decorated with tapestries hanging on the wall, probably to block the damp and the breezes outside. There were also couch by the hearth, bookshelves that lining up on the wall, and a worktable on the corner.

He kept walking towards one of the bookshelves. Then like the story on some mystery books she had ever read, the shelf moved when he pulled one black book from its row —revealing dark narrow passage. He made a small gesture for her to follow before darkness swallowing his lanky figure as he entered the pathway.

The passage was dark, she had to fumble to keep herself from falling as she stumbled a few times upon rough uneven floors. After they passed through the passage, the light was on as the torches were flickering on the walls, casting dreary light to its surrounding. Unlike the passage, this room had tile floors and smooth grey stone blocks. But still, the atmosphere on this room was different from the solar. It was very cold and dark as it had no windows in it. Its walls were lined with pickled animals and supply cupboard —her fine hair stood and her body shivered slightly as she observed various animal's part on display. There were also a blackboard hanging on the wall and water basin in the corner of the room. While in the center of the room, there were long table with several stools around it.

He told her to sit on one of the stool then took a book and gave it to her. Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger.

She, who still overwhelmed by shame after being splayed out on the dining table before, kept looking down on the book at her hands and grasped it hard; confused how to act around him after their encounter. Why didn't she have the control over her body? After what he had done to her earlier, her nether lips still wet and every time the friction of her dress brushed against her sensitive bare lips she would squirm uncomfortably. God, could she stand hours alone with him? She wasn't sure she could focus on their lesson.

She was so lost in her own mind until she heard his deep voice addressing her. "Miss Granger!" he snarled at her as he couldn't get her attention.

W—what? Miss Granger?

"Y—yes, sir?" She asked stammeringly.

"Listen to me carefully. Every time you enter this room, I need you to focus your mind on the tasks that I will give you. Forget everything that happened outside that closed door. Here, I am your master and you are my apprentice, hence act like one. Respect me and I will treat you right. I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death," he stopped for a second then added warningly, "But don't you ever take our session lightly as I won't tolerate any imbecilic mistakes while handling any the ingredients or while brewing the potions. There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations. Do you understand Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir," she finally answered and nodded after gaping for a moment.

"Do you bring your wand Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir," she took out her wand from the pocket of her dress.

"Good, today you will learn how to brew sleeping draught."

That was how her day goes by. For the starter, he gave her the essential explanations about potions making: properties, ingredients, spell and hand-waving to handle potion-making. Then she began to read the manual for brewing the sleeping draught while he was giving further explanations that wasn't listed on the book. After understanding the concepts, she prepared the ingredients and started to brew as he watching her sternly across the table.

Even though she never brew any potions before but she was certain she could brew the sleeping draught quite successfully. Potion-making was a subtle but exact science so as long as she followed the precise instructions she was sure that she would brew just fine. But with his eyes scrutinizing her every moves, even the smallest task became harder. At some point, she was too nervous that she almost knocked down a whole batch of sprinkle of powdered asphodel petals onto the boiling cauldron. Luckily, with her quick reflex, she snatched it in time. But damn, he already gave her his scorching glare, "Miss Granger," he said her name between his gritting teeth, "try to be more careful, you do not want to put someone to eternal sleep when he drinks that, right?" he warned her. Yes, putting too much ingredients on the potions could causing that effect. So, after that incident, she worked more carefully, avoiding his wrath.

After two hours, the potion was brewed perfectly, for her as least, as the shade matched up with the description on the text book. Unsure, she gave him a quick glance and he nodded in return. Quickly, she waved her wand to put the transparent liquid into some vials.

After their potions lesson ended, her hell wasn't over just yet. After taking a quick break for lunch, they continued their session, much to her chagrin as all she wanted to do was run to her room and put some undergarments on. The cold drafty air in the room made her nipples erected and brushed uncomfortably against her dress.

Luckily for her, he moved their next session to the solar room. The blaze coming from the hearth radiated warmth through the entire room. "As you know Miss Granger, magic is our innate gifts hidden in our genes. It lays dormant until some point in our life, awakened naturally or triggered by something external. Once the seal is broken, our magical powers emerge and sometimes you can feel it as an electric vibration on your fingertips. Some of us who born with this psychic ability can use it as naturally as breathing but others have to put some effort to release it. That's why we, wizards and witches, need to use wand as our quasi-sentient magical instrument. Even though we can cast some spells without the aid of the wand, but by using one we can centralize our magic to maximizing the results." After a moment, he then added, "how old were you when you started feeling the surge of your magical power?"

"When I was about eight year-old, sir."

"What happened back then?"

Her body became instantly stiff as she reminiscing one memorable recollection from her childhood. She remembered that day very clearly as if it was just yesterday. She was an inquisitive little girl even back then: annoyed people around her with endless questions. That summer day when she was eight year-old, one of her older cousin, Becca—the one with the puffy freckled cheeks, mocked her. She didn't know why but it seemed that the pesky girl loved to taunt her with her nasty comments ever since they were kids: buckteeth, rat nest hair, dork, bookworm, late bloomer, flat chested—yes, she was before, until suddenly it grew bigger, maybe God was finally answered her prayers —, and many more snide remarks she didn't even care to remember.

She was a levelheaded girl, so she usually ignored that kind of comments. But that summer day, Hermione just snapped when the pesky girl saying that she wasn't a witch as she didn't have any magical powers like the others. Wizards and witches usually exhibited magical abilities by the age of seven and she'd already passed that age but she still didn't show any magical sign. She was feeling rather anxious that time, scared by the probability of being born as a squib —someone with wizarding parentage but couldn't do magic would be cast away from their society. When that tense added with that snide comments, she finally snapped. Hermione lashed out at her, saying that she would prove that she's indeed a witch. Taking an extreme action, she went into the woods behind her nanna's house. She kept walking deeper and deeper into the dense woods until she found a steely big old oak tree. Bare feet, she tried to climb it. With her frail hands, she reached the lowest branch with one hand and wrapped her other arm around the trunk. Slowly, she placed her feet on the sturdy gnarl and wrapped her thighs and calves around the trunk. The rough and dried bark scrapping her smooth skin but she kept climbing until she reached the highest branch. On that branch, shakily she tried to stand with her hand wrapped tightly around the trunk. If her magic wouldn't come off naturally, maybe a bit force would do. Yes, she would prove that she is a witch. She wouldn't fall, she would float! Just watch it, you meanie pesky girl!

Slowly, she removed her hand from the trunk, but before she could make herself steady, she lost her balance and fell. Oh God. Her dress was torn, her skin was bruised and injured when sharp branches tore her skin. She felt sharp pain when she hit a hard branch with the back of her head that almost made her losing her consciousness. She waited for the excruciating pain that was about to come when she hit the ground. She closed her eyes and submitted to her fate. Broken bones. Internal bleeding. Yeah, what a foolish way to die Hermione. But none of that single thing happened. She finally stopped falling when her body was inches away from the ground. Thanks to Merlin, she was floating. Her magic protected her. But before she could cheers in happiness, the excruciating pain in her head made lose her consciousness, making her surrounded by the darkness.

Yes, that stupid action of hers made her family looking for her all night before they finally found her battered body. At that time, the ones who gathered in her nanna's house were all female relatives, her father and other male relatives were watching stupid Quidditch World Cup abroad. There was no floo network on her nanna's house at that time. Witches like her family couldn't apparate and couldn't use broom also, so they sent an owl and waited for quite long time for a healer to come and mend her. While waiting, her family tended her, trying to treat her wounds as best as they could.

He didn't mean to pry but her vacant eyes made him curious to peeping a little into her mind. Shit, after watching her bloodied and battered body, anger rose inside him. No one hurt what's mine. He would protect her. Yeah, who are you trying to fool? He was the biggest threat to her, "Miss Granger?" He finally said when his anger soothed a little bit.

Again, he tried to call her, louder this time. Finally his deep voice made her awake from her reverie. "Eh, y—yes, sir? What did you say, sir?"

"Are you quite alright?"

Unconsciously she rubbed the back of her head, looking for the slightly jagged skin—the trace of her old scar. "Yes, I am fine, sir. It just, it was my first magic. It emerged when I was clumsily fell," she tried to make her voice sound cheerful but failed.

Shifting the topic, he finally said, "Good, now, we need to assess your magical power first. Remember Miss Granger, spells require three main factors to be properly accounted for in order to succeed: wand movement, incantation and intent. If one does not move their wand in the correct way, does not speak the incantation properly and cannot retain their desired outcome in their imagination during casting then the spell will fail or backfire," he added.

"Now, try cast something. Remember, you need to relax yourself to maintain and enhance your magical powers."

"Begin…"

For several hours he made her casting the spells she knew, he also taught her some spells she wasn't familiar with then he would evaluate, no, more like criticize her. When their session had finally ended, the dusk had settled and she was weary to the bones. God, her body wasn't accustomed to this kind of exertion. Luckily, to end a tough day with hot bath always do the trick, she'd already felt slightly better. Closing her eyes and mumbling happily, she felt the rigid muscles relaxing under the hot bath.

She was so lost in her own mind, unaware when a tall figure stood in the doorway watching her intensely. Good God, everything about her was enticing him—her dark lashes that rested against her rosy cheeks, her tongue that moistened her plump lips, her skin that flushed from the heat, her pointy rosy nipples that stood proudly against the gravity.

He unbuttoned his cufflinks and folded his sleeves up to his elbows. Then stealthily, his heavy dragon hide boots made noiseless steps against the tiles floor when he walked towards her.

Her eyes widened and she even shrieked a bit when she felt something touching her cheek. Hastily, she tried to cover her breasts and bent her legs to conceal her private part while splashing him in the process.

"Well, well, well, if I didn't know any better. I would think that you've just seen a ghost," he gave her a meaningful smirk while kept stroking her skin.

"I, I am so sorry, sir. It's just that I am not aware that you are here, sir," he didn't say anything and just moved his hand to lose her hair from its messy bun; making her heart thumped hard behind her ribcage as if it was hammering its way out of her chest. Bloody hell, something was seriously wrong with her heart, maybe she ought to see a healer. "Why are you here, sir?" she finally asked trying to cast the agonizing silence away.

After he conjured a wooden footstool and sat beside the bathtub, he finally answered her question, "Hmm, merely collecting my payment." He made another smirk that making a little tickle traveling down her stomach as he soaked her hair with warm water.

"Sir, what are you doing?" What is he doing? Is he going to bathe her? Why he always treating her like a child?

"Now, stop thinking and just relax, girl. Your unresting state of mind is started to be unbecoming," he answered.

"But, sir, I can do it by my…" her line of words were cut short as he tugged a fistful of her hair, not too much to hurt her but enough to make her bending backwards slightly. She took that as a cue to shut herself up.

"Good, be a good girl and maybe you will get some rewards later," he whispered to her ear.

She finally relented, realizing that she couldn't win her argument against him.

He wet her hair and used generous amount of sweet scented vanilla shampoo on her hair. Meticulously, he massaged her scalp with his dexterous hands. He could feel her slightly jagged scar where no hair grow when he massaged the back of her head. Yes, he promised to himself that would protect her, no more scar would mare her skin.

She was mewling under his touch. What's wrong with him and his hands that always made her knees weak? She wasn't supposed to enjoy this. But, damn him and his manipulative hands. It'd been a long time since someone else touched her hair like that.

When he finished washing and rinsing her hair, he squirted another generous amount of creamy vanilla scented soap on to a washcloth and started to scrub all over her legs and her feet in small, circular motions. Even through the layer, his touch somehow made goose bumps covering her skin, despite the warmth of the water.

"Now, I need you to stand up, girl," he said next.

"NO!" she said spontaneously as her fingers gripping the edge of the bathtub tightly—afraid that he would force her and lift her up. No, she definitely couldn't stand the embarrassment if she did that.

"I said, stand up. Don't test my patience, girl. If I have to ask you one more time, you have to face the consequences." He dropped his voice when he finally added, "There will be handprints on your sweet derrières by the time you're out of this bath I assure you." He then gave her his trademark smirk.

Was she really going to go through this? At this point, did she even still have the choice of backing out? Reality sank into her, settling hard in the pit of her stomach. No, there was no backing out. She had sealed her fate that very morning. Yes, she already made her decision. Be strong, Hermione.

Slowly, she hold the bathtub's rim and hoisted herself up. Rivulets of warm water ran off her slippery skin leaving her heated rosy pink flesh to his wandering eyes. She clenched her hands on her side as heat was creeping up to her cheeks.

After he'd done admiring her body, he lathered the washcloth with soap again then started to wash her thoroughly, from shoulders to arms to hands, neglecting no inch of her, even washing between her fingers one at a time. After washing her neck, he caressed her chest, then dipped even lower to her breasts. He took his time when he washed her breasts; watching her quivered as she closing her eyes and bit her lip every time he caressed her sensitive nipples. Damn, her rosy peaks looked so tempting as it hardening under his repeated caresses. He trailed his fingertips down to her ribs, following the sudden hollow of her belly as she sucked in it, and then moved lower still. She gasped and froze when she felt his hand dip between her legs, he smirked widely every time he saw her quivering like this. After her front was all clean, he ordered her to turn around. He caressed and washed her back in gentle circles.

"Bend over and put your hands against the bathtub's rim, girl," before she could say anything, he pushed her back down knowing that she would refuse his order.

Again, her fingers gripped the bathtub's rim tightly until her knuckles became white. It was so awkward, being bent like that; she felt as vulnerable as all her private parts could be seen by him. Her body was trembling and shaking a little as she tried her hardest not to cry in front of him. No, wouldn't show her weakness. She closed her eyes and bit her lip to avoid any voice that might escape her lips, submitting herself to her fate.

"Good girl. Now, spread your legs for me, my sweet girl." She froze hearing his command, so using his hands he shifted her legs wider apart, pushing her bottom well out for him. He took advantage of her position as he could see her glistening pink lips, tempting him to lick and drank its juices. Damn, he was getting hard, he had to finish it quickly if he didn't want to end up with blue balls. He put the washcloth aside then run his hand up and down the insides of both thighs, up and around her smooth hips. Sweet Merlin, her skin was so soft under his touch.

"We have to clean you up thoroughly, right?" his voice broke the deafening silence.

What? She tried to cringe away from him with no avail when he parted her cheeks, as his grip was too strong for her to escape, "No, no what are you doing, sir?" No, no, no, what is he going to do with that dirty part?

"Be still, girl. You have to be cleaned up properly," he said softly trying to comfort her.

"No, sir, please not that place, sir," she begged him earnestly hoping he wouldn't touch her there. God, ashamed wasn't even expressed how she felt.

"No, girl. There is no part of you that should be hidden from me. I will treasure every part and crevice of your body. Now, be a good little girl and relax. As I said before, I won't do anything you aren't ready for."

Should she trust him? She caught her breath, her heart drumming against her ribs as he parted her cheeks wider. His fingers brushed between her thighs until his fingers found her bottom's entrance. He tempted to sink his finger inside that tight pink rim, preparing her to accept his member when she's ready. But no, not tonight, he didn't want to scare her. Take it slow, Severus. So, instead, he just cleaned her there, rubbing and circling on her entrance. Her pink lips and her bottom's entrance were clenched shut as her body became rigid when he did that, but he could see beads of her sweet nectar coming out from her pussy. He wanted to open that wet lips and lick her clean but he didn't want to scare her further, so he just rinsed her clean down there then helped her to stand up and rinse her body.

After he gave her the final rinse, her ordered to step out of the bathtub then dried her body and her hair with a fluffy towel. Even after all those things he'd done to her body, she still felt so embarrassed. Couldn't ignore the fact that she was naked, all exposed to his gaze, her legs were trembling and she fought hard not to cover her body with her hands.

Why did he do all of this to her? Before she could stop, words already slipped out of her lips, "Why are you keep treating me like an inept child, sir?"

"Hmm, why, girl? Do you hate it?" He asked her back while still drying her hair.

"Yes, it makes me feel like an incapable woman, sir. I am not used to it, being dependent to the others." True, she always did everything by herself, never relied on the others. It felt so odd to have someone helping her for such trivial things. Such embarrassing things.

"No need to worry. I will not strip the sense of independency out of you, girl. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for our classes today. You did well, girl. And aside from that, I also like to take care of what I own meticulously," he said with his soft voice. Yes, he owned her.

No, no. She hated when he said it aloud, making her stomach sick. His possession. A mere plaything. Nothing more. Bile rose to her throat hearing his statement, she clenched her hands to fists at her side, fought the urge to make herself small.

He tilted his head, took his time to observe her, looking at every curve, every hollow, and every crevice. "Beautiful", he murmured to her.

Stop, stop those lie. No one was ever called her beautiful. Not even her crush. He must let out that sweetened lie to make her bend over his will. Not a chance. She didn't know why but something triggered inside her, maybe anger, making her bold enough to snap at him, "No, sir. I am not beautiful. Something is really wrong with your eyes, sir. Maybe you should wear glasses so you could see more clearly or maybe you should brew something to enhance your vision, sir." Despite her nakedness, her eyes flashed with defiance, she wanted to challenge him, to rebut his claim.

Oh, he loved to see those fiery eyes when she was angry, "hmm, care to correct my erroneous assessment?" he gave her a mischievous grin.

Crap, she was never confident with her body, sure, she had a lot of flaws but to say those imperfections aloud in front of him sounded so wrong. She didn't say anything, only the sound of her chattering teeth could be heard as she was contemplating how to respond that irritating question.

"What? Speak louder, girl, I cannot hear a word you say," he baited.

She gritted her teeth harder showing her tenseness, every bad words people ever said to her, —especially from her sweet cousin, Becca—, crossing her mind, "As you can see, sir, I am no beauty. I have, probably, the most atrocious hair you have ever seen. It is like bird's nest and even I have no control over it. No matter how hard I try, it simply cannot be tamed. I don't have pretty face either or great body like those giggling popular girls from my old school. Look at me, sir. Buckteeth. Patronizing eyes. Extra pounds here and there. Sagging boobs. Too wide hip. Too thick legs. And many more. If I have to mention all of my flaws it could take an overnight, sir. So, yes, like what I said before, there is definitely something wrong with your eyes, sir," she finally hid her body with her hands in shame.

Just what kind of people around her that made her having this low self-esteem, "Too bad, it is their loss to not see one. Come here." He made a hand gesture for her to follow him to the bedroom. Still ashamed and naked, she followed him with her head down.

Her step halted when she saw him standing in front of a floor length mirror that he probably just conjured. "Come here before I have to get you by myself, girl," he made another hand gesture for her to come closer. So, with uncertain steps, she stood beside him with her head down. He touched her shoulders gently and positioned her in front of that big reflecting glass with him stood behind her. She ought to stay away from him, but being this close to him made her feel that warm tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Being enwrapped by his manly scent made her wondering if it just him or all grown men smell this enthralling? He smelt like strong spices mixed with warm, earthy, and woodsy sandalwood fragrance. No, stop there Hermione. Don't fall into his trap. She had to shift her focus. Tried not to catch her own reflection, or his on the mirror, she fixed her gaze at the mirror image of the luminous light coming from the candles on the candelabras.

His fingers slipped from her shoulder, grazed her throat lightly then cupped her chin gently, directing her gaze at her reflection. She wanted to deny him and just closed her eyes but when she was about to flutter her eyes shut, his deep baritone voice caressed the shell of her ear and manipulated her eyes to open on its own accord, "Open your eyes and see how beautiful you are, my little siren". He gave her a sly smile when their eyes met on the mirror. Bloody hell, pressure started to build in her lower abdomen when his lips touched her temple gently. He inhaled the sweet vanilla scented from her hair and stroke it lightly, "Yes, the atrocious hair of yours, I am wondering how could you sleep soundly at night without this hair of yours trying to suffocate you?" She gave him a sharp glare on the mirror while he just smiling mischievously at her. "But why should I have qualms about it? Compared to my lanky hair, yours are lively whilst mine is long dead," he added jokingly as she snorted at him. She was just about to retort when he gave her a stern disapproving glance, effectively shutting her up.

His lips grazed the shell of her ear, his breath tickling her, "I find you quite alluring. You just don't understand your own appeal." Yes, he had to admit that her innocence was alluring him, unlike the others who used their beauty to seduce and manipulate. From their reflection on the mirror, she watched as he wrapped his arm around her, circling her waist. He trailed his fingertips over her stomach, making a pressure grew in her lower abdomen, "Beauty is about being comfortable in your own skin. It's about knowing and accepting who you are." His breath caressed the side of her neck as he trailed his fingers up the curve of her stomach to the valley between her breasts. Her cheeks warmed as she watched his fingers circling her rosy nipple until it hardened and ached. Tension brimming inside her as his other hand joined to the other breast. She sucked a gulp of air and moan escaped her lips when he pinched her nipples. Her legs became weak, wobbly, as she leant back against his chest. The buttons of his shirt pressed hard against her spine but she couldn't careless as he kept fondling her breasts and making the tightness in her lower pit increased. He continued to massage her breasts, he loved the suppleness as her large breasts overflowed from his grasp.

Embarrassed, she looked away from their reflection as he squeezed and pressed her breasts together. "No, keep watching, girl." She obeyed his order as he kept groping her breasts and left the redness on her milky skin where he fondled her. "There must be a lot of men, and probably boys, leering at this magnificent bosom of yours, imagining to fondle and suck this pert nipples," he emphasized his point by pinching her nipples, making her whining, "Did you ever imagine any of those idiots do this to you?" he asked as kept massaging her breasts.

What question was that? What did he think of her? A common whore? God, she was mad, she tried to make loud and fuming response but his skillful hands made her let out quivering response instead, "Do you think so low of me, sir? I would never do such a thing, I truly loathe people who make that leering eyes." Yes, she hated them, those creeps. Some people started to give her that kind of stare when her breasts grew bigger. Boys leering at her while girls talking about hurtful things behind her back. Whore, she ever heard Becca called her that when she once wore too fitting corseted dress that enhancing her bosom. Since then, she was accustomed to wear saggy and shapeless dresses to cover up her figure.

"Good, that's my good little girl. Maybe I should really give you a reward," good indeed, he would beat anyone who dare to leer or touch what's his. From their reflection, she watched his right hand trailed the curve of her stomach, down to the juncture between her legs, watching as he covered her quim with his huge hand. "Mine", he murmured into her ear, making her shivered. His warm fingers massaged her lips gently, then he traced her outer lips. She let out a gasp when he parted her intimate folds with his fingertips. Her sweet nectar started to wet his fingers as he rubbed along her entrance the up to her clit, "Do you like when I touch your pussy, girl?"

What? "N—no." Her trembling and breathy voice came out of her mouth as an answer.

"Really? So, why are these naughty juices keep coming out from this sweet little pussy of yours and wetting my hand?" he teased her further.

"N—n—no, I am not wetting my—myself. Those pro—probably water f—from the bath," she answered him waveringly.

"Hmm, really? I didn't realize that your water bath is this thick and has sweet musky smell. It must be my bad," he gave her a sly smirk. Her knees wobbled and nearly gave up when he found her tiny, sensitive nub hidden within her folds. He wrapped his free arm around her waist to keep her securely to him.

Her breaths came in quick gasps, her eyes tightly closed as he kept teasing her nub. Her body trembling even harder as he circling her little nub then suddenly pinched it with his fingers. She was so wet so he could easily slipped one finger, then two, inside her tight channel, thrusting with steady rhythm.

"Do you want to come, girl?"

"N—no, please, s—stop," she begged him as she felt so overwhelmed and the tension inside her raced towards its breaking point. Even though she said no but her body acted differently as she kept writhing on his fingers.

His gentle touch turned demanding, his fingers didn't allow her any respite, didn't allow her to fight off her oncoming climax for very much longer. Intensifying his thrusts and pinched her nipple hard, he commanded her, "Be a good girl and come for me, my girl." After hearing his order, plethora of sensations hit her instantly, she was spasming and jerking in his arms. He held her until the convulsions ebbed away then took his fingers out of pulsing channel.

"Look at the mirror, my little siren," he took her chin and redirected her gaze to their reflection again, "Look how beautiful you are, look how you glowing". Their eyes met when he licked his fingers coated with her sweet nectar, "sweet and addicting," he gave her an apprehensive purr when he whispered those words to her ear.

"Now, it is time for your other lesson. Kneel, girl." She didn't know why but her body was complying his order instantly, maybe because her head was still in clutter. Still confused, there she was, kneeling naked in front of him. What did he want her to do? Without warning, suddenly it all became clear and blood rushed to her face when she realized what she was facing: a huge, huge, bulge on his pants.

"Don't you think it is time to return the favor, girl," he said to her as he touched and adjusted his uncomfortable massive bulge on his pants. He smirked and mumbled to himself, yes, it is time for a little payment.