There are many times that I ask myself why you are here with me even though I know the answer. Sometimes, I remember how you once were, when we first met. Young, lovely, innocent, your eyes full of life You were optimistic, brilliant, brave and loyal. Your smile was akin to feeling the rays of the morning sun on my face after years of darkness. I craved you even then, a child young enough to be my daughter. I imagined taking you and making you mine, your small body accepting me as I consumed you.
You realized it, didn’t you? You looked into my eyes one day and saw the need, dark with desire and madness. That’s when you turned from me, when you no longer shared your light. It was over in an instant, words of distrust and suspicion spilling from those pretty lips, your eyes holding an awareness that no one else noticed. You knew that I was acting for the others, knew that I was not the same happy, playful, unchanged Sirius that they had known.
Darkness does things to a person’s soul. Hopelessness and despair can drain one’s life so all that is left is an empty shell of what was once a vibrant personality. You knew and understood what was lurking in my eyes. It scared you so you pushed me away before you got hurt. Looking back now, I know what you saw did not make you afraid of me. It made you afraid of yourself because you had the same cravings, the same needs, the same twisted desires. You might have been a child, barely sixteen, but you wanted what you saw in me, what I could give you, and it scared you.
The brightest witch Hogwarts had seen in decades. A label given to you by those who only saw the academic achievements, only saw the ambition and drive that gave you high marks, who never looked beyond the intelligence and confident façade you presented to see the lonely soul within. You were loved by parents who did not understand your gifts, by friends who did not understand your needs, by professors who did not understand that there was so much more to you than schoolwork. You gave, they took, and never once did they give you back what you most desired: unconditional love and acceptance.
When we met, even at your tender age of thirteen, I looked into your eyes and I saw what the others could not see or did not want to see. In those first few moments, despite the confusion and drama that was going on around us, I knew that I had to have you. I watched and I waited, craving you even as I told myself it was wrong, that you were too young, that you were too pure to be tainted by me. And then it was too late. Scared little girl realizing that someone sees beyond the mask, running away, my hopes destroyed as your words of suspicion cut me as easily as a knife.
I became even more reckless, made stupid mistakes to prove you wrong, to show that I was not dangerous to you, that you were safe with me, that I could protect you and those you love. Then I was surrounded by darkness again, my life gone but not. Shadows and whispers, time crawling by as the madness became more difficult to control. Thoughts of you always on my mind, my desire for you becoming even more of an obsession.
Finally released from that prison, years gone by and you were changed. War had destroyed your innocence and your optimism, your eyes old and tired. You had seen so much, lost so many people, and you were nothing more than the empty shell that I had once been. Looking into your eyes, I could see the need to feel alive again. No longer a child, I could have you without hesitation. You wanted me to make it better, to give you what you needed, to understand.
Some might accuse me of taking advantage and they would be right. I used my knowledge of what I saw in your eyes, of what I had always seen, and I made you crave me in the same way I yearned for you. You gave yourself to me, mind, body, and soul. You are as addicted to me as I am to you. Giving me control makes it better, balances the mask of authority that you wear around everyone else, frees you so that you can simply live and enjoy the pleasure that I offer. They would never understand this part of you, not in the way that I do, just as they do not understand me. You lose yourself in me while I find myself in you. You are mine.
I love seeing you like this. Your nude body glistening with sweat, flushed with arousal, your eyes defiant even as you crave my possession. I will not make it easy for you tonight. We are going to play our little game with no rules. You see, I saw you with him this afternoon. I need to remind you that you belong to me. I am the one that gives you what you need, what you crave. I am the pain that causes pleasure. It is my cock that makes you wet. My hands that bruise your pale flesh. My words that excite you and make your nipples hard.
I know he means nothing to you. You looked for me as you smiled *my* smile at him, your eyes searching for me to make sure I saw your daring act. You want to be punished this evening and you insured that I knew your intentions without even saying a word. I would have known from looking into your eyes, but you wanted to make me angry. You are well aware of my jealousy, sharing that particular trait with me. Pushing me is dangerous, the control I hold tenuous on the best of occasions, but this evening you want me wild, untamed, and you shall have me.
I have had hours to make my plans for you, love, long hours to sit in the silence of our house with nothing by the whispers for company, deciding how I will punish you for flirting so blatantly with another. I must remind you that you are mine, that I am your master, even when we are not within the confines of this room. I fear I have been too gentle lately, holding you and making love to you. You enjoy the tenderness just as I do, but we both crave more at times and tonight we shall have it in abundance.
It has been long enough. I have made you wait for an hour, since you returned home from work. I have learned to distract myself with thoughts of you, me, our past, our future. Patience is something I have never fully acquired so it requires effort to remain still and not begin the game early. You have not moved from the kneeling position I placed you after removing your clothes though I can tell you are growing weary. The wooden floor must hurt your knees but you have said nothing.
Does the steel of the Muggle handcuffs feel cold against your flesh? I saw your surprise when I removed them from the drawer, so accustomed to using magic in this room that something familiar from your past caught you completely off guard. Your arms must be tired, fastened behind your back so tightly, yet you have not yet disobeyed my command to kneel and remain silent. Standing, I walk to you, my fingers moving down your back teasingly before I unfasten one of the cuffs. It is time to play.
"Good girl," I say, my tone a perfect combination of condescension and mocking. I watch as you straighten your shoulders though you keep your head down as instructed. I sit in the chair that I have positioned beside the bed before I look at you. "Lay on the bed and fuck yourself."
That gets a reaction. You look at me from beneath the long brown curls that frame your pretty face, your eyes curious and hesitant, but you obey without delay. You stand and it takes a moment for you to get your balance after kneeling so long. Soon, you are laying on the bed. "Look at me, watch me," I command, my voice low and husky, offering no room for argument. You raise your eyes, meeting mine, as you spread your legs, giving me a perfect view of your wet cunt.
You move your right hand between your legs, two fingers teasing the edges of your sex before sliding inside. You are cautious with your movements, knowing that I have never allowed you such a privilege so soon, passion soon overriding the tentativeness of your caress. "That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself for me." You add another finger, your body beginning to slowly move against your hand. I can smell the aroma of sex as you obey me, your juices dripping to the sheet beneath you. Listening to the sounds of you fucking yourself, I smile as I remark, "Your arse is empty. Fix it."
I watch your tongue trace the curve of your lips as you move your body into a position that better allows you to fulfill my request. Your left hand moves beneath your leg, the metal of the handcuff catching light from the candles as you rest your foot against the bed. Spreading your legs wide, you run two fingers along your wet cunt before you begin to move them in circles around your puckered hole. Leaning back, I watch you slowly ease one inside. "I did not tell you to stop fucking that sweet pussy, baby." Your right hand begins to move again, three fingers pumping in and out as the second finger joins the first in your arse.
"You like that, don’t you my beautiful whore?" You moan at my words, your hands moving faster as you shift between them. I know you find it arousing when I talk dirty, the good girl of Gryffindor loves it when I talk dirty. Sweat is dripping between your breasts, your skin flushed, your eyes rolling back as you make the most adorable breathy moans. "Come for me, Hermione."
You come with a keen of pleasure, your body arching off the bed, your head falling back as the sensations course through you. Your legs are shaking as you climax, the sound of your ragged breathing filling the air. As you come, my hand moves to my erection. Stroking myself lazily, I watch as your eyes open and you look at me with desire and confusion.
You still do not understand what I have in mind for tonight and it frustrates you even as your body is consumed with lust. You have to know all the answers. Even when you give yourself to me completely, you like to know what to expect, and have gained knowledge regarding my expectations and how to please me. During the past two years, you have learned my moods and believe you can predict my behavior even when we’re in this room. Tonight, you will learn not to become quite so complacent, especially here where we satisfy our darker desires.
You have noticed that I am touching myself, your eyes devouring my hard cock as you shift on the bed. I bend my head and let some spit fall from my mouth onto my erection. You whimper as my tongue moves along my lips and I give you a look that I know is full of hunger and wickedness. I run my fist up and down my shaft, coating it with my pre-cum and saliva, making it glisten in the candle light. "You want this, don’t you?"
"Yes, Master, please let me take your cock in my mouth." Despite your lust, you remember where we are, asking politely and calling me by the title you have given me. I love the look of craving I see in your eyes.
In this room, we are Master and Slave. You are no longer the strong one, the one that must remain stalwart and brave to keep everyone around you from falling apart. With me, you are free to be yourself, to take what you need, to obey instead of command. It is an escape for both of us from a reality that requires us to hide the darker desires we occasionally need. In this room, we are simply alive, driven by a basic need for pleasure, and pain. There is very little that we have not or will not eventually do here.
"Crawl to me," I reply finally, gripping my cock tightly. Like a cat, you move off the bed and crawl to me, your eyes glazed with lust. You move between my spread legs, your hair brushing against my thighs as you open your mouth and take the swollen purple head of my erection inside. I thrust my length into your throat and begun to fuck you with long, slow strokes.
Your tongue licks my length as you move your head up and down, your fingers fondling my heavy sac as you suck me. I allow myself to relax momentarily, enjoying your expert ministrations. You have gotten so good at this, knowing exactly what I like the most. "You’re a good little cocksucker, baby," I compliment as I enjoy the feel of your mouth.
When I take your head in my hands and lift you off my cock for a moment, you smile at me as our eyes meet, but just for a moment because I soon lift you and send you sprawling back on the bed. You are unable to conceal your surprise at my actions, but you recover quickly. You sit up, pushing your long hair away from your face, you eyes meeting mine as you demurely ask, "Master, what would you like me to do for you?"
"Lay back and let me taste you." My request is simple and you lay back without protest. Kneeling on the bed, I close my eyes and change, my body shifting as I become Padfoot. When I open my eyes, I can smell your fear underlying the arousal. You are always frightened when I shift, but I know the fear will fade soon. You are growing more accustomed to my desire for you regardless of what form I am in. I lick your leg as I crawl up the bed, nuzzling my head against your thigh as I near your sweet smelling cunt.
My nose is wet against your clit as I begin to lick you, the sound of your gasp reaching my ears. You taste so good, my long tongue lapping at your juices, my fur rubbing against your legs as your fingers begin to stroke my head, urging me closer. No longer afraid, you spread your legs for me, my name escaping your lips as your hand moves to cup your breast. "Padfoot" a mere whisper before you moan wantonly as your orgasm hits. I rub my belly and erection against the bed, whining slightly as I try to taste more, tempted to give myself over to my more animalistic needs and fuck you, but I will not take you in this form tonight. When I fuck you, it will be my cock causing you to scream in ecstasy.
I raise my head, my tongue licking my mouth and nose before I change, my hair grazing your leg as I become myself once again. My hand moves beneath your chin, my voice low as I say, "I did not give you permission to come, my sweet whore." Without waiting for an apology, I turn you over, securing your right wrist with the handcuffs, your arms behind your back.
"Rest your head on the pillow, baby." You do so, your hair a lovely contrast against the burgundy sheets. I move your body until you are kneeling, your magnificent arse begging for my attention. I look at the small table in the corner, my eyes moving over the various whips and toys left there from our last visit to this room. I consider flogging you, loving the marks that toy leaves behind, but my patience is near its limit and I know I will be unable to give such an action the attention it deserves.
Raising my hand, I hit your left cheek, the sound of the slap loud in the silent room. I watch with satisfaction as my handprint is left on the pale globe. My hand moves to rest on the back of your neck, keeping your head down, my fingers tangling in your curls as I begin to spank you with my bare hand. I strike your arse and legs, never hitting the same place twice. In between smacks, I caress your flesh, leaning over to run my tongue along your crimson skin. Moving my hand against your wet cunt, I slide two fingers into you, twisting them and brushing against your clit.
Removing my hand, I slap your arse again, leaving behind your juices. I hear your moans as I continue spanking you. "You like this, don’t you, baby?"
"God yes." Your tone is breathless, thick with passion. My eyes narrow as I realize that I am being too soft, that you are enjoying what is supposed to be punishment. I do not wish to hurt you, but I have learned your perfect balance between pain and pleasure and this room is where I use my knowledge.
I move behind you and enter you in one thrust, penetrating you deeply. You cry out, your head snapping back, and I see your fingernails curling into your hands as I begin to fuck you. A dozen strokes and then I pull out, my hand squeezing my cock as I regain control. My fingers again enter your cunt, finding you soaking wet. Looking at your face, I trace the outline of your lips with my fingers. "Suck."
You open your mouth and suck my fingers, enjoying the taste of yourself. I turn my attention to your cunt. Three fingers enter you easily, your body moving against my hand. I slap your arse with my bare hand as I fuck you with my fingers, using my knee to spread your legs more. A fourth finger enters you and I hear the soft groan of discomfort, your muscles tightening around me as I continue thrusting them into you.
I stare at my hand, wondering if I can add the thumb. "Do you suppose my fist would fit inside you, baby?" I muse aloud, a vision of you laying on your back with my fist buried deep inside you flashing in my mind. My thumb moves along the thin strip of skin separating your cunt from your arse and I consider trying it, to see if it will fit. It would be painful, I know, but would the pleasure outweigh the pain? It’s so warm and wet within you, what would that silky smoothness feel like surrounding my hand? Would it feel as tight and glorious as it does around my cock?
Your soft plea reaches my ears, breaking my concentration. The crazed look leaves my eyes, though I am unaware it has even entered them. "Please don’t, Master," you whisper, fear causing your voice to tremor. It is not the fear of the unknown that is common before we try something new, it is a real fear that causes my hand to stop its movement. I let it fall to the bed, leaving you empty as I listen to the dark whispers in my mind telling me everything I should do to you, reminding me that you are mine to use for enjoyment in any way that I wish when we are in this room.
Looking into your eyes, seeing the unshed tears behind the dilated pupils and the fearful expression, the whispers stop. I may be your Master, but I will never hurt you. I will never do something that you truly do not wish me to do. The game is over. Leaning over, I spread your cheeks and run my tongue along your arse. Curling it, I move it inside you, two fingers entering your wet sex as I stroke you. You gasp softly when you feel my soft hair brush against the handprints on the back of your legs, the area even more sensitive after the spanking you received.
Raising my head, I move my wet hand to the handcuffs. I unfasten them, releasing your arms, massaging your wrists as I turn you to lay on your back. "You’re so beautiful, love," I say, not caring if it breaks the rules of this room. Love is for outside this room, during the course of our more normal relationship. Here it is baby, whore, slut, and any other name I wish to use. Tonight, there are no rules, however, and I want you to know I realize I almost went too far.
I am still firmly in control, but my touch is more gentle as I caress your breasts and ribs. My tongue circles your nipple before I suck the rosy bud into my mouth as I enter you slowly. I feel your fingers in my long hair as I begin to move, your pelvis arching up to meet my thrusts. When I finally kiss you, I take possession, accepting your eager surrender. I pull out until the only head of my cock is inside you before slamming back into you completely, grinding against your clit with each downward motion.
Your foot moves along the back of my leg, your toes brushing against the curly dark hair that is scattered over the surface, touching the back of my knees where you know I am ticklish. I catch your leg, moving it to rest over my shoulder as I change the angle of my penetration. I watch you grip the sheet beneath us tightly as my lips trail down the smooth column of your neck. Feeling my imminent release, my fingers find your clit and twist hard.
Your body spasms beneath mine as you come, muscles tightening around my cock, your cry of pleasure sending me over the edge. I sink deep and come with a low grunt of your name, emptying my release into you. I kiss you again, passionate but gentle, exploring your mouth as I make shallow thrusts until all of my seed is spent. When the kiss ends, you sigh, "Thank you, Master," before snuggling against me.
I reluctantly pull out of you, scooping your body into my arms. You rest your head on my shoulder, your curly brown hair disheveled and even more unruly than normal. You look exhausted, your eyes sleepy and your face flushed from the exertion of the last couple of hours. You are relaxed, a sated smile on your lips as you move your thumb over my nipples.
Without setting you down, I pick up my wand from the table where I had left it earlier. "Alohomora," I say, watching as the door swings open for us. I will clean up the room tomorrow, knowing it can wait until morning. I walk down the hall to our bedroom, hearing you whisper, "Thank you, Sirius" before you sigh blissfully, your breath warm against my neck.
I love you, Hermione, I think quietly as my eyes catch yours. I am still not comfortable speaking of emotions I had never considered possible, I may never actually say the words but I know you know how I feel. Lust, passion, want, need, friendship. These things I knew during my youth. Love of friends replaced love of family and I never experienced romantic love, believing it to be a fairy tale saved for those wishful dreamers or the lucky sots like James and Lily.
After Azkaban and my time trapped within the Veil, I was startled to discover that my relationship with you, first begun out of a mutual need to feel alive again, based on intense desire and obsession, had become something more. I know we rarely say the words, neither of us particularly fond of talking about such things, but we know it is there and that it exists. Tonight, I feel a need to say the words.
You raise your head and look at me, giving me *my* smile before you say, "I love you, too, Sirius."
My lips twist into a grin and I relax, knowing you have forgiven me for slipping earlier. The last time I felt myself slipping, I was unable to pull back before I hurt you, the memory of the scars and blood still appearing in my darkest nightmares. Thankfully, I have begun to learn how to control the darker parts of myself in the past few years so that I will not hurt those I love. I see understanding and acceptance in your eyes before you kiss me gently and I happily lose myself in you.
The End.