She wakes with the oddest sensation of fullness, as though she'd eaten too much for her tummy. Laying face down on her mattress, Hermione is covered by more than the usual weight of her blankets. She wiggles under the pressure, uncomfortable, and the mass above her flexes, moves. A groan echoes in the darkness of her borrowed Grimmauld Place room and she realizes she is not alone.
Sensation returns to her slowly. Her legs are spread, something heavy settled between them, and there's a burning pushing deeper inside her. The sheets have been tossed aside, perhaps in her sleep. Her nightdress has been rucked up past her waist, an awkward lump underneath her, and the heat of another body presses down on her, nearly crushing her into the bed. They are so much bigger than her, she can't move.
Belatedly, it occurs to her that the heat against her arse means her panties are missing. That and whatever the raw stretching between her legs is, it's attached to whoever is on top of her.
It's as though the world tips back on it's axis and rights itself when Hermione is confronted with the horrifying realization that there is a man atop her and he's slowly pushing what she can only assume is his rigid penis into her quim.
Panic swamps her and she tries to flail but he's smothered her with his weight and she can only clutch her hands at the comforter. She flexes her feet, trying to kick, but can't even draw up to her knees. She keens in fear and feels him pull back a little- not above her, per say, but within her. Oh Merlin, he's sinking back in deeper and she can barely fit him, he's too much.
A voice hushes her as she whines into her blankets. "Nice and quiet," he breathes over the crest of her head, "There we are. Just like that. Good girl, Hermione." He slips deeper into her, a slow rocking motion proves to be her undoing. How can he fit more of it in?? She already feels she could split in two.
"Stop," she whimpers, barely coherent beneath him, "It hurts. Please."
He grunts and thrusts forward sharply, and she cries out as pain lances through her. He's past her hymen, she notes in a daze, he must be fully inside her now. She waits for him to withdraw, but instead he presses deeper, and Hermione can feel herself opening for him, stretching to accommodate his girth. She's gasping into the mattress as he drives slowly into her, sinking in every inch.
"Such a good girl," he croons, and his hands drift up to catch her clenched fists, "You'll be nice and still for me, won't you?" He pulls from her just as languidly, as though Harry isn't sleeping just down the hall, as though there aren't a host of Order members likely huddled downstairs. Doesn't he know they would flay him alive for this? He thrusts back in with a snap of his hips and she yelps. "Must be quiet, Hermione," he mutters, "Show me you can behave," he groans as he slips from her again, "And I'll give you a present."
"I don't want it," she says petulantly, and whether it's the present or his cock it hardly matters; it seems he'll give it to her either way.
"Nonsense," he huffs as he thrusts into her again, "You'll take it like –ah- a good little girl," he's setting a pace now, the slow pull and the eager plow forwards, "And you'll thank me –hmmmm- when it's done."
A hiccupping sob works its way up her throat but it doesn't slow him down a bit. His frame shifts atop her as he continues fucking her pinned body, ignoring her muffled cries. He's prodding at something deep inside her she feels like should never be touched, he's clearly too big and yet every shove back inside he somehow works himself down to the hilt.
"That's it," he says as she quiets, only loosing a whimper when he thrusts uncomfortably hard, "That's it. Take it, you sweet girl. Take this cock…"
Hermione shudders at the words filling her ears, at the feeling of him sawing within her. Her cunt aches and he doesn't slow, keeping a punishing rhythm even as filth spills from his lips.
"You like it, don't you witch?" he pants above her, "Like being held down. Like my big cock, don't you?" She moans as he begins to drive into her faster, the soft sound of skin on skin filling the room. "Tell me you want me inside you. Say it."
Hermione can barely beg him to stop, her breath feels caught in her lungs; she can't find the air to speak a word. He insists, though, grasping a fistful of her hair and yanking her head painfully to the side. "Say it," he demands through gritted teeth, pounding into her roughly, "Tell me you wanted my cock."
She whimpers, and too overwhelmed with the pain she stutters out a pitiful, "I w-want it."
It's not nearly enough to appease him, as he huffs over her head in exertion and tugs on her hair again. "Tell me what you want, Hermione," he grunts, "Tell me."
"Your c-cock," Hermione hiccups, delirious with sensation, "I want it. I want it."
"Knew you did," he groans, "Needed something to fill you up. Make you come like a big girl. Lovely little cunt, so tight. So tight." He seems to lose his rhythm at the words, jerking haphazardly, and Hermione squeals as she feels him pulse within her. There's a sudden burst of warmth deep inside her and he slaps a hand over her mouth as he moans into the cushions above her head. He is twitching inside her, spurting out an overwhelming heat.
"Merlin, that's good," he says, but doesn't pull away. Hermione whimpers, waiting for that inevitable slide out. His weight is the only thing keeping her from shaking, pressed too tightly between him and the bed, but she feels a shuddering rising in her she can't explain.
Instead of lifting from her, he shuffles atop her tiny form. She feels him move inside her, the wet squelch of his release bringing a humiliating burn to her cheeks, but he doesn't even lift his hand from her mouth. "Well," he says sternly, "You haven't quite been a good girl, dear, but I think you've tried."
A hand slips around her hip and between the bed and her thighs, and fingers pet at her cunt awkwardly. "I think you deserve at least a little reward, hmm?" he asks as fingertips skim over her clit. Hermione whines and tries to move away, but there is no where to go. Instead she finds herself pushing back against his limp cock, drawing a gasp from his lips.
"Oh, darling," he murmurs, "Sweet girl. Did you need another?"
She doesn't know what he's asking but it can't be good; Hermione wiggles underneath him only for his fingers to press down sharply on her little bud, and then he's thrusting into her again, slightly more solid than before. "Did you need to come on a hard cock, hmm? You wanted your present while I fill you up again?"
She's shaking her head, free hands now scrabbling at the sheets, but it does little. He ignores her muffled 'no's' and rocks into her gently, playing with her cunt and teasing her open while she writhes. "That's it, good girl," he croons, "You like this? Like me touching your sweet cunny?"
Hermione keens into his hand as pleasure rises through her, surpassing the uncomfortable swell of him inside her, and tilts her hips up to him instinctively. "My sweet cunny now," he says dreamily. He presses down on her clit cruelly and she feels something within her clench, the sensation pulled from her unwilling body. The world seems to grow darker as she flutters around him, gripping his cock in the throes of her tiny death and working her ass back against his groin. Everything grows foggy and Hermione can't feel much at all for a moment besides the surge of ecstasy he forces upon her.
A moment later the pressure on her back has vanished and he is pulling her hips up and back with him as he struggles to his knees. She is pliant in his grasp, feeling used and stretched, her nightgown slipping up to her shoulders while he manhandles her. His member, solid once more, slides slickly out of her and a trickle of his spend drips down her inner thigh. Her face and chest are still pressed to the mattress and she can't bring herself to move.
"What a sight," he sighs behind her, and his fingers dip to tease at her entrance, "Hermione? Dear?" He slides two thick fingers inside her and begins to stroke them in her patiently, drawing more of his release out of her with every sloppy slide. She mewls into her fist. "What was it you wanted again?"
She hides her face behind that bushy mane and says not a word, so he tuts at her like one of her professors and scissors his fingers wide inside her. She trembles under the assault and whimpers out her answer, "C-cock."
"Yes, that's right," he muses, and she feels him pull away, feels him press something much wider than two fingers to her dripping cunt. He holds her hips still as he pushes into her, hissing out his pleasure at the soft, wet clench of her pussy already filled with his seed. "I'll give it to you, darling. Give you all the cock you need."
"Please," she means to say it loudly but he's stripped her of her voice, it seems, barely above a whisper. The word only enthuses him and he thrusts into her roughly, bullocks slapping at her spread cunt.
"So good for me," he croons, gripping at her hips and arse as he ruts away wildly. Her cries are muted but he doesn't seem to notice them either way, eagerly plowing into her. "Such a good girl. Taking this so well."
He's fucking her so hard she's sliding up the bed and it only hurts now, a deep ache in her with every slap of their skin. "Please stop!" Hermione gasps out one final time, hoping for some shred of mercy, only to hear him groan in response. His hips still and his hands clench on her hips as he leans over her, pressing into her back and burying himself inside her as he comes for the second time. He throbs within her, a slick heat spreading through her cunt she wishes she could forget.
"Nice and quiet," he whispers at the shell of her ear and she shivers, "Such a good girl, Hermione." He jerks inside her once more and leans back, pulling out of her puffy, dripping cunt as she tries desperately to come back to herself, to wake from what must be a nightmare. A large hand slides soothingly down her back and cups the cheek of her arse in appreciation. "So well behaved."
She lays still as he pulls her nightgown back down, covering the wreckage he's made of her, and then he's off the bed, fishing his pants off the floor and dressing himself quickly. He can't be away from her fast enough, she wishes he'd just leave. When he steps back to the bed to drop an obscenely affectionate kiss to the top of her head she has to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. "Don't worry, Darling," he murmurs and raises his wand, "I'll remember for the both of us."
~obliviate~