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After Voldemort won, Hermione’s life turned small. She was an Omega, and a Mudblood, and she was lucky to be alive.
It was probably because she was an Omega that she’d been spared.
All the Alphas liked to mount her.
Even though her blood was dirty.
The only rule was that no one could fuck her cunt.
It was too dangerous.
The last thing Voldemort wanted was a pregnant Mudblood.
And Hermione was very fertile. She was going mad with the need to be mated. To be filled. To be knotted. In her cunt.
But she was denied over and over.
She was pretty sure she was on blockers, but they did little to quell her need.
The Alphas liked to have her in the drawing room.
Most of the time, there was an audience.
Right now, Snape was buried in her arse whilst Lucius Malfoy was taking her throat.
She moaned continuously, her mind gone. She had stopped thinking a long, long time ago.
There was no need to think when everything was lost.
Snape pumped rather leisurely, though his cock felt enormous. He was using her arse to tease his fat knot.
A part of her wished Snape was in her throat instead. Malfoy wasn’t as big as him. His knot barely cut off her airflow.
“I’m glad someone combed her hair,” Malfoy murmured, petting her head. “She was a right mess the last time I had her.”
“You’ve always been too preoccupied with appearances,” Snape growled, giving it to her a little harder.
Malfoy sniffed. “Well, you wouldn’t understand. Not when you look like that.”
Snape stopped moving inside her, his knot throbbing. It was obvious he was glaring at Malfoy.
“Gentlemen, please,” Voldemort whispered from his viewing chair. “Your prattle is ruining the show.”
“Apologies, Master,” Snape said, and then he began to fuck Hermione brutally, taking out all his frustration on her arse.
She cried out and writhed. She choked, too. Malfoy was doing the same to her throat.
Over and over, the two men used her. She quaked against the padded bench. She was going light headed from the sensation.
Yes, yes, she murmured to herself.
She wanted her orgasm. And she wanted to pass out.
Snape came in her arse with a grunt, his knot swelling, locking them in place. Nearly at the same time, Malfoy peaked as well, and his knot felt like a small ball in her throat.
She sobbed as she tasted a bit of Malfoy’s seed.
She wanted that seed in her cunt.
But she was denied, over and over.
After only a minute or so, Snape had deflated enough to pull out. She got the feeling he only fucked her because it was asked of him.
It took Malfoy longer to recover from his high. He purred as he was lodged in her throat, even grinding his hips a bit deeper, teasing his softening cock.
And all Hermione could do was drool continuously.
Then Malfoy was done, and he gave her a warm pat to the face after he pulled out.
Good girl, that pat seemed to say. As if she were a pet.
Hermione was given a reprieve for only a few minutes.
Fenrir Greyback was the next to mount her. He transformed before he did it.
Panicked, she lunged forward to get away, not wanting to be buggered by a werewolf, but Voldemort snarled and ordered for her to be tied up.
Magicked ropes appeared, trapping her limbs to the bench.
The first thing she felt was a wet snout against her backside. A warm tongue began to lick her. At first, it only concentrated on her arse, but then it went lower, seeking out her cunt from behind.
She moaned loudly as the werewolf ate her out from behind, its tongue managing to tease her clit.
It had been so long since she’d felt stimulation there. If she focussed on the sensation, she could almost imagine the tongue was a cock, spearing her open, so close to impregnating her.
Then that tongue did slip inside her cunt, fucking her, and it was longer than a human’s, so much longer. It flicked inside her, massaging her.
Hermione cried out and squirted a little. The werewolf growled as it lapped up her release.
She began to shake, an overwhelming heat overtaking her body. Her orgasm was so, so close.
“Please!” she begged. “Please! Please!”
The werewolf huffed and stepped back, not letting her come.
She sobbed in despair. Her audience laughed.
“What a good mutt,” Voldemort said, sounding delighted.
Then the werewolf mounted her, and it was a terribly rough act. It gave zero thought to her comfort, to her pleasure.
And its tapered cock was very, very big.
Hermione screamed continuously because it was the only thing she could do.
At first, the pain killed her cresting peak, but she was desperate enough that soon even the werewolf’s prick began to feel good inside her.
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She tried to kick her legs but she was immobile.
It was all too much. Too much.
Please, please just let it end, she begged in her own head.
She wished Voldemort could hear her thoughts.
Please, please!
When the werewolf finally came, it howled loudly, its claws scraping against her sides. Its knot ballooned inside her and she just had to take it, take it—
“Help me!” she cried out. “It’s too much!”
And everyone just laughed at her.
Time slipped away, but she didn’t think she passed out. In truth, she didn’t really know what happened to her.
When Hermione was aware again, she found that she was on her back, blinking up at Bellatrix Lestrange.
Lestrange’s eyes were hot and gleaming. She was a beautiful woman. Her black curls shone in the firelight.
She smiled at Hermione. “My turn,” she purred, and then mounted Hermione.
Hermione gasped in shock. Lestrange was fucking her with a cock.
“You’re an Alpha, too?!” Hermione cried.
Lestrange laughed. “Yes, you stupid girl. Now, shut up and let me use you.”
Hermione wrapped her arms around her, clinging. She realised only her legs were bound now. It was a new pleasure to feel a woman against her as her arse was plundered.
Lestrange’s breasts were warm and full. Her skin smelled like spiced vanilla.
Hermione’s cunt squeezed, so desperate for this woman to breed her. Take care of her. Give her a baby.
“Please! Please!”
Moaning, Lestrange kissed her hungrily, and her mouth tasted of sweet wine. They kissed and kissed, and Hermione used her freed hands to grope her breasts, taking so much comfort in them.
Lestrange ripped away so she could moan and cackle, her head thrown back, her hips pumping over and over.
Hermione took the opportunity to suckle on her right nipple. “Mummy,” she whispered, crying.
“Oh, what a delight you are!” Lestrange exclaimed, cackling again. Then she groaned as Hermione lavished her breasts with her tongue.
It was obvious she liked Hermione’s mouth on her. She liked it a lot.
Even though Hermione was a Mudblood.
Lestrange came only a minute or so later. Her groans deepened into an Alpha snarl as she emptied herself in Hermione’s barren arse.
Hermione was so worked up, so unsatisfied, that she thrashed helplessly. Her sobs were loud, so loud.
Then something remarkable happened: Voldemort stood and went to Hermione.
Hermione was broken, so broken, and she didn’t have the will to look at him.
Suddenly, one thought filled her head, the words blaring: KILL ME, KILL ME, KILL ME!
“Step aside, Bella,” Voldemort said quietly.
Lestrange whimpered. “But my knot—I can’t—”
“I said, step aside.”
Cursing, quivering all over, Lestrange yanked out of Hermione. It was very painful to be unknotted. Both women muffled aching groans.
Then Voldemort took his place between Hermione’s thighs. There was the sound of robes being undone, then gasps echoed in the room.
Voldemort had his cock out. “Look at me.”
Hermione forced her gaze to him. His eyes were red like blood. His smile was smug. Dangerous.
He was a snake.
“You have done well, Mudblood,” he said softly. “Tonight, I think you deserve a reward.”
Voldemort eased inside her cunt.
Hermione threw her head back and came on the spot. She squirted on him. Continuously. Her Omega heat barrelled through her.
Hissing, Voldemort latched onto her hips, and fucked her hard. It felt as if he had claws. She felt his sharp nails.
“Yes! Yes!” she wailed.
“Master,” Lestrange gasped.
The audience was noisy, very noisy. There were cries of dissent. There were also moans.
What Voldemort was doing was forbidden.
“Yes! Yes!” Hermione cried. “Give me your baby!”
She was utterly mindless with the need.
Voldemort laughed coldly even as his thrusts turned desperate, his cock throbbing inside her.
He was the most evil person in Britain—he was immortal—but he felt like any other man inside her.
It’s as if he’s my husband, Hermione thought, and her cunt clenched around him.
“Master, may I join in?” Lestrange asked, breathless.
“Yes.”
Hermione braced herself for an attack, but all Bellatrix Lestrange did was bow her head and lick Hermione’s clit.
She ate her cunt as her master took his pleasure.
The sensation was so intense that Hermione lost herself. Finally.
As she floated, just floated, she felt when Voldemort emptied himself inside her. He hissed in Parseltongue as he did it, his orgasm making him quiver.
And Lestrange moaned and moaned into her cunt.
My Alpha’s impregnated me. Hermione smiled as she fully gave herself over to unconsciousness.
In her dreams, Hermione cradled a beautiful baby. She was safe and warm in her nest. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, she had to fear.