This choice: "Mistress." Hermione whispered, her voice husky with need. • Go Back...Chapter #9"Mistress." Hermione whispered. by: Mr. George   It was at that point, that Harry started to pay more attention. Looking down at the three girls curled up around his feet. Their faces looking up at him in anticipation. He noticed a couple of things. The first was that three of them now seemed to be wearing identical make-up. The second was the stiff leather collars around their necks.
He hadn't summoned them from the walls, and he couldn't recall them taking the time themselves to actually fetch their own bonds.
Turning his attention back to Bellatrix, she was now kneeling on the bed. Her legs spread, and her bust tipped with diamond hard nipples.
Petrificus Totalus!
Instantly Harry froze in place, the girls peeled away from his feet. Harry rocked back and forth, until even that movement was stopped with a tender hand on his shoulder. His lips were frozen, unable to command, unable to plead, unable even to ask the simplest question. Only Harry's eyes were mobile, and under his control. His breathing was automatic and slight, the slenderest of flaring nostrils showing that he was still alive.
"Mistress." the girls chorused, as Bella approached. Her hips swayed, and her breasts bounced, as she approached. She was taunting him with her body.
She stopped inches from his face.
"You're still in there, aren't you?" she taunted, the answer well known to her.
She batted at Harry's cock with the back of her hand. "I don't have much of a taste for those."
Her fingernails traced their way around Harry's waist, until she grabbed a handful of Harry's taut arse. Her nails dug deeply, drawing five tiny trickles of blood, where they pierced his flesh.
"But I do know how to deal with that." she purred, "Don't I?"
She addressed her last question to a trembling Hermione. Her face flushed, and she nodded, her gaze never higher than her mistress' knees.
With a single beckoning finger, she called Hermione around to stand in front of him.
She stood there, and as she ran her hand over the proud swell of her arse, Harry saw as the glamour faded, tattooed on her round rump, was an emerald snake.
"Oh, yes, Harry. She's mine now, body and soul. She craves my every touch, my tenderest caress, or my fiercest rebuke."
She gave Hermione's well displayed arse a resounding slap.
A cry of pain was ripped from her lips, but her smile, her eyes, every aspect of her expression testified to her soul-deep joy at her mistress' attention.
Turning her attention back to the impotent Harry she held up a hand mirror. There in the reflection, Harry saw that his face, his familiar face was made up, exactly the same as the girls. The same subtle green eye make-up, the same deep, glossy red lips. The light powdering of make-up giving his cheeks a healthy glow.
Cursing himself, his arrogance, he even recalled the spell. The spell he'd dismissed as him walking into a spider's web... a spider's silken thread tickling his face.
As if deliberately taunting, she traced her wand once around her belly button. A silky, slinky satin corset spread outwards. Harry was incapable of groaning at his own blindness. But Bellatrix was no Hogwarts student (not anymore), so she wasn't bound by his rules, his descriptions. He wanted to swallow nervously, but even that was denied him. Instead, he could only feel the chill dread in his stomach as he felt absolute horror and fear churn there.
As Bella's spell completed, she wore a midnight chemise. The thin strap resting on each shoulder. The hem brushing against her gorgeous thighs. Her hypnotic nipples still showing their hardness, their excitement, tenting the soft, supple material.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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