Canberra. The National Library of Australia is in Canberra. Hermione had collected travel brochures from muggle travel agent and had studied as many photos of the library that she could find. Of course she visited muggle libraries during her research and developed a strong mental image of the library and its ground. After disapparating at the Weasley's she successfully apparated in a copse of trees on the library grounds. Opening her extensible charm bag she extracted a rolling suitcase. Then she dropped in her bag, closed the luggage, extended the handle, and attempted to look like a recent arrival. She had obtained a British passport when she was a child and she renewed it back in London before she departed, so she had identity papers. A port of entry stamp had to be conjured and it was imbued with a mild confundus charm so the ruse was complete.
It was winter down under, a fact that Hermione had failed to take the weather into account. Shivering in the cold breeze, she cast a warming charm to envelop her. Hermione had obtained a map and she knew her parents' address. Also, although the library and city streets were lit with streetlights it was after dark in Canberra. Having departed Ottery St. Catchpole at approximately 10:00 AM, it was now 9:00 PM in Canberra. Too late to stop at her parents. She decided to book a hotel. The commercial district was not far.
As she walked along the street Hermione saw a striking man walking towards her. His skin color was ebony black and he had a broad nose but, for reasons unknown to Hermione, she was drawn to him. Tight, short dreadlocks and coal black hair topped his head. He was very well dressed in a worsted wool business suit accented with a red tie. As he drew closer Hermione could see his skin tone was flawless and his eyes were compelling pools of black surrounded by pure white conjunctiva that completely surrounded his black iris. Long eyelashes on his upper eyelid curled up, Sweet Merlin I would love to have eyelashes like that, and the eyebrows were coal black and masculine.
He was close now and suddenly looked up and looked directly into Hermione's eyes. She felt a blush rise, she had been caught staring. He smiled at her, exposing pure white teeth and a warm inviting smile. "Hello, there, little Sheila," he greeted her. Hermione had come to a halt and he took another step to stand in front of her where he stopped. She was blushing heavily now and, if she was honest with herself, her pussy grew damp at the same time.
"I beg your pardon," Hermione began. "You must think me quite rude for staring. Please forgive me." Hermione's accent exposed her as a foreigner.
"Not at all. I understand perfectly, little Sheila." He projected self-assurance in his sexuality and attractiveness, something Hermione was unfamiliar with in a man. Her pussy approved and grew a little more damp. "What's your name, little English girl?"
"Hermione. My name is Hermione," and she extended her hand.
"Koa. I am honored to meet you Her-my-oh-nee." And with that he grasped her hand ever so delicately, raised it, and kissed the back of her hand. His fingers were just as beautiful as his face, long and slender with an even skin tone. Hermione's face grew warmer and her pussy moister.
"Koa? That's a lovely name, Koa. Is it…"
"It's an aboriginal name, yes," he interrupted and finished her thought. "I am a member of the native people of Australia. Koa means brave. Have you been here long?" His diction was flawless with only a hint of an Aussie inflection. Brave, is it? Suited to be a Gryffindor, she mused.
"I just arrived," Hermione offered, being careful not to reveal too much.
"Welcome to our sacred land, then, Her-my-oh-nee."
"Her-my-nee. It's Her-my-nee."
"Oh, I see. Please excuse my ignorance. Her…my…nee.", he offered.
There was now an awkward pause wherein Hermione did not know what to say.
"May I invite you to allow me to treat you to one of our excellent coffees, Her-my-nee? You would do me a great honor by accepting." Then, without saying another word, he stepped alongside her and looped her hand that he was still holding under his arm and began to walk her down the street. This all happened so quickly, smoothly, and suavely that Hermione did not have time to think let alone respond. He was not terribly tall, perhaps five‑foot eight or thereabouts, but he carried himself with an easy and graceful self‑assurance. His athletic gait matched hers effortlessly and Hermione allowed him to guide her to a nearby café. Once inside he guided her into a chair and sat gracefully opposite.
"The espressos here are excellent but if you fear they may interrupt your sleep the lattes are equally delicious. What can I order for you?"
Did he have to say 'delicious' is that sexy manner? While it was evening here in Canberra she had departed from England in the morning less than an hour ago. She certainly wasn't sleepy yet and probably would not be sleepy for another ten or eleven hours. Nevertheless, she opted for the latte. Koa rose and strode over to the counter where he busied himself placing their orders. He moves like a ballet dancer. Merlin he's hot! Hermione caught herself. Must get control of yourself Hermione. You just met him and if you keep this up your panties will be wet, not just moist.
Hermione was in uncharted territory here. She had only just, within the past forty-eight hours, taken the first steps into her sexual awakening and now she was lusting after a perfect stranger. But this perfect stranger was unlike any man, or boy, she had ever known. He was a walking, talking seduction machine oozing self‑confidence combined with an undeniably sexy physical presence. The assault on her senses would be difficult to control. Hermione was just now realizing that her newly discovered knowledge of desire and arousal did not include any knowledge of the mechanisms of control. Thinking back upon the lessons that Fleur had shared she wondered if this lizard brain of her's included a control mechanism. It certainly had made the sex with Ginny exceptionally pleasurable when she allowed her base primitive instincts take control over her higher-level brain functions. Fleur had hinted that this was the natural way of our sexuality. But, surely, there had to be a mechanism of control. This café was filled with many people of breeding age and they were not all down and fucking in the aisle.
Koa had returned with their drinks. Placing her latte ever so delicately on the table before her he placed his down and then swept into his seat opposite her.
"Well, Hermione, I am very honored that you have agreed to share a coffee with me. You will find the coffee served in southeast Asia and the South Pacific to be particularly superb." Hermione took a sip and he was right. He continued, "You must think me very bold, Her-my-nee, to take such a forward initiative with you. So I have a confession. I was curious about the aura, if aura is the proper word, that I detected about you."
The warming charm? Was that it? Hermione was running through the possibilities in her mind. She needed to stall.
"I'm sure I can't say. Perhaps you could say more," Hermione stalled.
"I do not know what you understand about the spirituality of the aboriginal peoples, but we believe all things are connected into one spirit. That includes the land, all life, all thought, and all humans. We are obligated to care for and nurture each other. Our beliefs are classified in the Western World as animism, a belief system that does not differentiate between the sacred and the secular. There are those among us who have been bestowed a special gift by the creator. You may think of it as an advanced form of empathy or sensitivity to the life force, or possibly the spirit, of all things. I have been privileged to have had such an ability bestowed upon me and it is among the strongest of those who have it. I have detected a special spirit, or aura if you will, with you. So I am grateful you have granted me the opportunity to get to know more about you."
The tension within Hermione was rising. On the one hand her natural instincts to be cautious and keep in mind that she was a temporary resident here, and part of the magical world that must remain concealed was primary. She speculated that he may have detected the force to project magic within her. She must not expose the magical world to this stranger. On the other, her primitive instincts and the sexual attraction she felt to this ever so debonaire man seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Stall, Hermione.
Leaving his statement to rest without comment, Hermione inquired, "What do you do for a living, if I may ask, Koa?"
"I'm a project manager for the mining operations of my firm. My focus is primarily gold, silver and other precious metals. What does Her-my-nee do for a living and does it have anything to do with her visit here down‑under?"
What can I say? I need to keep putting the ball back into his court. "I just recently graduated and I'm here on a break before deciding what I should do after school. Perhaps you can help me. Tell me, Koa, how did you get started on your career path?" Hermione was beginning to panic and the tension she was experiencing inside was rising because she realized she had no exit strategy. Oh, Merlin. I should have never accepted his invitation. What an idiot!
"Well, I attended the University of Western Australia and earned my degree in Mining Engineering, with a minor in Geology. Then I went to Switzerland and earned my Masters in Business Administration at the University of Zurich. It was a lovely time in a lovely country. Does that answer your question?"
Hermione raised her hands and her fingers began to rub her temples. She was out of her depth. This was a sophisticated man, probably more than ten years older than her nineteen years, and possessed with a self‑assurance that she found extremely attractive, even sexy. The blinding white of his eyes that fully surrounded the infinite depths of those black centers seemed to be stimulating that fucking Amygdala that Fleur had described. The fucking thing was firing off signals throughout her brain and ramped up her apprehension. The conflict withing her was fueling a headache.
"But I see that you are in pain. Please, little Shelia, allow me to help."
Hermione's eyes snapped open and peering into his hypnotic gaze she asked, "What do you mean?"
"No harm will come to you and my intentions are strictly those of a gentleman. I mean you no dishonor or embarrassment. My special gift of empathy and sensitivity to the lifeforce can often perform acts of healing. Please, allow me."
Rising from his seat and circling the table he approached Hermione from behind. Gently lifting her hands away from her temples he replaced her fingers with his own and began to rub them soothingly. "I sense a tension in you, Her-my-nee. There is a battle raging between your higher order of intellect and a more primitive region of your brain. It is causing you pain. I do not know the source of this tension but I believe I can soothe the strain. Please surrender yourself to the spirit of my healing."
His gentle touch began to stimulate a feeling of harmony within her. The effect began to make her relax. Whether by her choice, or his strength of will, she did surrender to his touch. Her self-doubts, perception of danger, necessity to remain in control, need for structure in her thoughts, and dependence upon logic began to drain away. She began to feel more in touch with her primal instincts. She was attracted to this man and she was willing to grant herself permission to admit it to herself. Why not enjoy this encounter? What harm can there be in it? No rejoinder emerged from her logical brain. The conflict now resolved; the pain was now gone.
"Thank you," Hermione said. "That's much better now."
Koa lifted his touch from her now and returned to his seat. A feeling of loss and longing for the erotic sensations of his touch resulted. Surprisingly, she accepted this reality without internal objection. It occurred to her that Koa was in possession of a type of magic, if can be called that, of which she was entirely unfamiliar and of which she had never encountered in any of the books that she had read.
"How did you do that?" she asked. "Could you read my thoughts?" suddenly paranoid, she probed for understanding.
"No. As I described, I have a special sensitivity to what I describe as the lifeforce, but that is an inadequate explanation. The most ancient part of our brain is strong with the life force, for it reacts to all the stimulus of our five senses as well as the higher order thinking that produces motivation, structure, and logic. But this ancient brain is insufficient for the employment of language, which originates in the higher order functions. Still, within this ancient brain there are compartmentalized regions that are stimulated by different base level instincts: fear, joy, attraction, lust, pain, and panic. Western psychology describes it as producing what they call the fight‑or‑flight response. I sense that their theories are true enough but are short of the full truth; it is also so much more than that. No I could not read your thoughts but I could sense the conflict within you and its origins in your primitive instincts. More than that, I can touch that ancient brain and influence, in small ways perhaps, the responses it broadcasts to the higher-level functions."
Hermione sipped the last of her latte. She would need to process all of this at a later time. She was enjoying the afterglow of his ministrations now and chose not to disturb these feelings. Now, without a trace of shame or embarrassment, she gazed at his face and soaked in the feelings of attraction he stimulated in her. Her pussy dampened again and, this time, she relished in the feeling. Seeing that she had finished, he rose from his chair and, walking around to her side of the table, he offered his hand. Accepting it, Hermione rose and, with the gentlest of persuasion, looped her arm under his. With his free hand he took the handle of her luggage and escorted her to the exit.
"I would like to escort you to your hotel," he offered.
"Actually," Hermione countered, "I don't yet have a hotel reservation. I was on the hunt for a hotel with a vacancy when I found you."
"Then let me be of assistance. I will find you a suitable room."
Never, never, never in Hermione's young life had a man treated her as a proper lady nor had she ever imagine being worthy of such treatment, being self‑reliant to a fault. Putting aside Ron's childish bids for her attention, Harry had always been kind, patient, and supportive. Neville had also. Dean was fun, Seamus a clown, Cedric was a proper gentleman, and almost all the boys in Hufflepuff had been respectful, if a little less than friendly. Her fellow Gryffindors knew her value and treated her respectfully but tinged with a little too much veneration. But it was entirely different with Kao. Like Harry, he was kind, patient and supportive but beyond that he was complimentary, sophisticated, and flirty. Yes, that was it, he was flirting with her. Upon recognition of his flirting she suddenly felt inadequate; she had not flirted in return. Flirting was a skill she had never learned and certainly never thought useful. She was getting more and more horny by the minute and this made her wonder if he could smell her arousal. Could this man be touched in that way?
At that point he had turned and, directing her into a vastly oversize revolving door, and without relinquishing her grip on his arm, he pushed them through into the lobby of the hotel he had selected. The check-in process occupied the better part of ten minutes and he stood patiently by her side as she completed the transaction. When the desk clerk handed forward the key card for her room he intercepted it, then gently turned her and guided her to the elevators. The ride to the fourth floor was awkward for her. Scrunched with her back into the corner of the elevator Koa stood facing her, looking her up and down and undressing her with his eyes.
When they exited the elevator she reclaimed his arm and they proceeded down the hall to her room. Her thighs were sticking together as she walked. Her panties were soaked and leaking down her upper things. Her nipples were now hard enough to cut glass. Inserting the key card he opened the door, swept into the room, dragged the luggage beside him and gestured for her to enter. Hermione was uncertain what would come next so she entered the room as far as the windows, then turned around. Koa dropped the key car on the dresser next to the television, hoisted her luggage onto the luggage stand, then rummaged in the refrigerator, and extracted a small bottle of wine. Unwrapping two glasses he poured some wine into each.
Standing before her and offering her a glass he hoisted his and declared, "Here's to new friends, a ravishing woman, and a beautiful evening." They stood like that, sipping their wine while he openly ravished her with his eyes. She returned the favor.
He knew. Her fragrance of arousal was strong now. He knew he would have his way with this beauty. At thirty-three years of age Koa had had many women. He had perfected his skills of seduction and, using his special gift, knew just where to probe in their lizard brains so as to increase their desire for him and overcome their resistance. It was time to demonstrate his dominance to Hermione.
Lifting her glass from her hand he placed the glasses on the nearby desk then moved in for their first kiss. Lips; two lips; four lips together; a seriously underutilized erogenous zone. As his lips met hers his connection to her overstimulated Amygdala was direct and powerful. He could probe it at will and she was more than meeting him halfway. Hermione sensed the connection but did not understand what was happening. Her kisses with Ginny were delicious, sensuous, and erotic. But Koa's kiss was intoxicating. Without breaking the kiss she pushed him away slightly, unfastened the one button on his suitcoat, grasped his lapels and split the garment open across his chest, then hoisted it off his shoulders, down his arms, and onto the floor.
Koa began to unbutton her shirt, without urgency, tantalizing her. Hermione was impatient and tore at his buttons, tugged his shirt up from his waistband, split it open, hoisted it over his shoulders and halfway down his arms. There she gathered the fabric at his elbows and trapped his arms behind him. He did not struggle. Her wanton display of lust inflated his member. Leaning back she examined him. What was it about his ebony black skin? He was a skillfully chiseled Adonis and his muscular definition was perfectly visible, as though his skin was translucent. Merlin this man is gorgeous! Hermione leaned in and started to lick his chest and abdomen. She sensed another strange feeling as the connection between the erogenous zones on his torso transmitted through her tongue and lips. Meanwhile, he shimmied his arms free, removed her shirt, unhooked her bra, and hooking the garment under the junction at her cleavage he pulled it down. Straightening her arms she let it fall.
Pushing her shoulders back he pressed her against the wall and began to fondle and caress her beautiful breasts. The contrast between his dark, muscular hands and her creamy white breasts was so lascivious to Hermione. The connection from his hands and her rock-hard nipples sent shock waves through her. She was ravenous, sex obsessed, and now ready to surrender to his every deviant whim. He unclasped the waistband of her skirt and slid the zipper down her hip. Hermione's hips and butt were large enough to give her a decidedly good figure but not so wide as to be an impediment at this moment. The skirt fell to the floor and he pulled her panties down after it. Her fragrance flooded his senses as he bent down to slide them down her legs. She kicked them aside along with her shoes.
Hermione stood naked before this man, a first among many firsts that would be breached for her today. She felt no sense of shame. Inexplicably, she was proud and made no attempt to cover herself. Stepping back he took it all in. His cock throbbed in his pants. Gesturing towards the bed he asked her, "Please bring me one of those large pillows, little Sheila." Obediently she hastened to comply. Returning with the pillow she gave it to him whereupon he dropped it at his feet and commanded, "Kneel!"
She complied immediately. On her knees before him she reached for his belt buckle.
"Shoes and sock first, little Sheila," he instructed.
Now, a naked Hermione, on her knees, and crouching before this man in utter supplication and submission, she unlaced his shoes and removed them from his feet along with his socks.
"Remain like that until I give you permission to rise," he ordered in a voice of unquestioned authority. She remained bent over as he examined her form from above, admiring her bum in this position and the delicate creamy white skin of her back. Finally, after several minutes, he said, "You may now rise onto your knees."
She rose onto her knees and then reached for his belt buckle a second time. He swatted away her hands and admonished her. "Did I give you permission to do that?"
"No, sir," she found herself saying and her pussy pulsed with impatience.
"Very well, then. I will let this incident go with a warning only. Do not try my patience further. Because you are inexperienced I shall now explain the decorum you must exhibit going forward. You shall ask for permission before you act. You are allowed to ask with a single sentence and the sentence shall either start with one of three words, or end with them. The acceptable words are: Master, Sir, or Daddy. You may tell me your choice."
"Sir," she replied. She was growing impatient. She wanted to touch her first cock. She wanted to make him moan in his need as she pleasured him.
"You may unfasten my belt."
His belt was wide and made of thick leather. Pulling the end out of the buckle she pulled it back and struggled briefly to free the pawl from the perforation. Once it was free she pulled the belt apart and reached for the button on his waistband. Again, he swatter her hands away.
"Hands at your sides," he commanded. "You failed to request permission." With that he pulled the belt out of the belt loops, doubled it over into a loop in his hands, stepped around to her side and raised the belt. "You shall beg for it."
"Please, sir."
And with that he brought the belt down in a swift stroke angled across her buttocks. One stroke only. Tears immediately welled in her eyes. Returning to his position before her, we waited.
"Please, sir, may I open your pants?" she begged.
"You may."
She impatiently fumbled at the button, finally freeing it from the buttonhole and then had to reach into the waistband to unfasten a hook and loop. His package was straining against his pants so she carefully lowered the zipper and opened the pants. They fell to his knees and his dick was now naked before her eyes. He had not worn an undershirt and he was not wearing underpants either. He took the initiative to step out of his pants and kick them aside. Now he placed his feet shoulder width apart and closer to her face. There was no more than six inches between her nose and this swollen member.
It was beautiful. If the ebony black skin on his torso revealed his muscular definition, the skin on his shaft revealed an intricate pattern of veins bulging just beneath the surface. It was swollen with need but not yet erect so it hung down in front of his sack. It was longer than Ron's, perhaps a little thinner as well, but by how much she could not estimate, it was also uncut. His foreskin hooded the head of his penis but the very tip of his penis peeked out from its sheath. Hermione reached for it and, again, her hands were swatted away. He swiftly positioned himself to her other side, the belt raised in his hand. She did not require prompting.
"Please, sir." The belt whistled through the air and added a crossed stripe across her bum to join the first. She was shocked at how immediate the gush of tears was to the belt's strike. He returned to his position before her.
"May I touch it, sir?" she implored.
"Be specific. Touch what?"
"Your penis, sir."
"You can do better than that. What do you want, tell me."
"I want to fondle your cock and balls, please sir"
"You may."
Hermione wrapped her hand around this mighty instrument and began to gently stroke it. Her grasp upon reality, of the here and now, melted away leaving only a consciousness of this phallus. Hermione had created another strong connection into her lizard brain, strongerthan any previous connection. Her pussy pulsed with greater need, her nipples ached, and her clit strained against its hood. The skin was so smooth and delicate, like the skin around her eyes or behind her ears. The cock began to grow as she stroked it and she could feel its hardness and strength sheathed in the smooth skin under her touch. The veins under the skin rippled across her hands as she stroked him.
"Please Sir, I want to put it in my mouth," Hermione begged.
"You shall bathe my cock and balls with your saliva. Starting with my balls, that you will treat with the utmost care, and when I am satisfied I shall give you permission to perform equal service to my cock. If you drool and slobber over me sufficiently I may give you permission to accept it into your mouth. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," and she set immediately to work. To her surprise her salivary glands began to work overtime as she slathered his sack and balls with her tongue and gently captured them in her mouth. His dick was erect now and pressed against the bridge of her nose as she worked. Now she began to lick the imposing shaft. She licked from the base to the uncut head and down again, all the while aching to put it in her mouth but being careful to wait for permission. Pausing periodically to drool on it she made it slick and spread the saliva with her hands. Requiring no instruction she began to pump it with her hands, sliding up over the slick head and down again, causing the foreskin to pull back and expose the head. He was making little moans now and his noises thrilled her, a form of validation she had never known.
"Show me what a cock slut you are. Take it into your mouth."
Swirling her tongue around his uncut head several times to begin with, then pulling back the foreskin and repeating the swirling, he lost patience and bucked his hips, spearing the shaft past her lips and into her mouth. Again, requiring no instruction, she bobbed her head on his shaft and worked her tongue on the underside, feeling those bulging veins that seemed more prominent now that he had grown full hard while she continued to hand pump the base of his cock not in her mouth. Grasping her head in his hands he began to fuck her mouth, bumping her tonsils with every thrust and grunting savagely as well. Hermione focused upon breathing in rhythm to his thrusts and emitted a gagging noise with each as well, "Gawwk, Gawwk, Gawwk, Gawwk, Gawwk."
Then he pulled out. Reaching down he cupped her torso under her armpits and lifted her into the air. With her feet dangling and Hermione gasping to catch her breath. Approaching the king-size bed he flung her out to the center of the bed where she landed on her back. Then he crawled up between her legs and seized her legs behind her knees, pushing them back until her knees were alongside her tits. Her pelvis was tipped up and he brought his hips up so his cock was in alignment with her snatch. His cock lay on her lips and with a few careful thrusts it fell into her blooming flower, but not penetrating her cunt, and began to tease her up and down, bumping her swollen button with each forward thrust. Hermione's head was thrashing left and right and her hands gathered tight bunches of the bedspread as her senses were overloaded.
The contact between his erect member and her slit afforded him the strongest and most direct connection into her brain's ancient remnant. He took full advantage of this and stimulated her past her tolerance. She was reduced to a panting primal animal. In a deft move he now pulled back a little, sought the opening to her core with the tip of his prick and, finding it, pushed in with determination driving past any resistance.
Her pain centers fired and he sensed it. Buried in her burning cunt to the hilt he held himself there for a minute until the pain began to level off. "You're a virgin cock slut, aren't you?" he inquired.
Eyes closed tightly; she could only nod her head.
"Well, not anymore, my precious little cock slut. Now I'm going to make you my fuck toy."
He began to thrust, slowly but deliberately, puling almost out and then driving into full depth. Every two or three thrusts he increased his pace ever so slightly and continued to take advantage of his connection into her primitive neural centers seeking to amplify each stimulus. She was unaware of her surroundings, did not know who she was, did not know where she was, and even unaware of him. The thrusting cock and the stimulus from her sore cunt was all she knew, and all she wanted to know.
He pulled out. She cried out loudly in protest. Flipping her legs over to the side he seized her hips and hoisted her up onto her knees. Her face was buried in the bed cover as he thrust back into her. Her cunt throbbed in gratitude and fireworks exploded in the back of her brain. In this position he bumped her cervix with every thrust giving her a new sensation, a combination of sharp pain and extreme pleasure, that was unimaginable. Looking down he saw the crisscross red stripes left by his belt and began to spank her in time with his thrusts with his open hand, first one cheek and then the next.
He was close. His ball sack began to tighten. Then Hermoine collapsed onto the bed as a shattering orgasm took away all strength in her limbs. He fell forward with her, his cock still buried in her cunt, and continued to pump away for another minute, sustaining her orgasm the whole time. In this position he could not spank her bright red ass but he could press his lower abdomen against it, bearing down with his weight, and scraping against the sensitive flesh with each thrust. I came upon him suddenly and he spewed his spunk deep into her overworked cunt. To his own amazement it was his turn to see fireworks. The feeling of his seed filling her overworked cunt was too much for her and she passed out.
After a few minutes he recovered his senses as well. That was the most incredible sexual experience he had ever had. He was shocked at the intensity of it. Relishing in the afterglow he finally withdrew and pulled back off the bed. Hermione's legs were split wide apart and he could see, to his great pride, his spunk mixed with a little blood begin to leak out. Leaving her unconscious he gathered his clothes and made his way to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed.
Before he left he leaned over the bed and kissed her bright red cheeks, relishing the warmth that radiated from her unfortunate abused bum and savoring her intoxicating bouquet. Satisfied with his handiwork he departed, softly closing the door behind himself.
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