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Hermione walked into the large building with her head held high. The noise of the lobby hit her all at once, and she ignored the urge to look around and ogle like some common breed.
“Come along now, pet,” her owner said. The collar around her neck tugged sharply and she followed him down the hallway into what she assumed was the check-in room.
As her owner checked them in, Hermione stood quietly behind him. Her neck prickled at the feeling of eyes on her, like an annoying itch that wouldn’t go away.
She was well aware that there was a target painted on her back. After winning last year’s Best in Show, she was now the one to beat, and there were many who sought to unseat her.
However, none of the other pets stood a chance.
“Come,” her owner commanded, checking his large, garish watch. “We don’t want to be late.”
The process to get ready was familiar. Hermione sat pretty as various hands groomed her. Her luxurious curls were tied up in pigtails, her skin was oiled and soft, and her cheeks were pinched to give them a lovely rose color.
Her typical collar was removed and a daintier one took its place. The thin band of diamond-studded gold encircled her neck and three chains of varying lengths hung from the middle, dipping low between her breasts. Golden cuffs, shined to perfection, wrapped around her wrists and ankles to match the golden barbells in her nipples.
One final touch was added to complete her look. Her owner leaned down to fasten her competition number to her collar – a diamond-encrusted pendant in the shape of the number “1.”
“Look at me.” Her owner yanked her pigtail. Hermione winced and gave him her full attention. “You better not disappoint me, alright? Anything less than first, and you’ll be out on the street.”
Hermione’s stomach churned, but she nodded nevertheless.
Her owner hadn’t always been like this. Once upon a time, he had been caring and gentle, concerned only with keeping her content and comfortable.
But all of that had changed after she had started winning competitions. Now, it seemed like he cared more about the trophy she took home rather than about her.
Either way, she still wanted to make him happy. If she didn’t win, who would care for her? Who would give her attention? Who would love her?
When it came time for the show to begin, Hermione followed her owner into the arena. She examined the other pets, assessing her competition although none seemed to be a credible threat.
There was one in the far corner, number 49, who was tall and lean, with shaggy black hair. His owner, a tired-looking man with mousy brown hair and scars across his face, looked down at his watch. His pet gazed at him with adoration.
There was another pet a few rows down who could be an issue. Her straight bob was sleek and classic, and her skin was pale and unblemished. Her owner was a small blonde thing who had a dreamy smile on her face as she fussed over her pet.
Hermione got to her station and climbed up on top of her designated pedestal. Tucking her feet beneath her, she situated herself neatly and waited as her owner set up her station. A plaque with her name was set out, so polished she could see her reflection in it.
“I wonder who will be judging you today,” her owner muttered, taking out a handkerchief and patting his forehead.
Hermione’s eyes wandered around the space and saw a few judges already out and about. Because there were so many pets, the show had numerous judges examining each and every one. She could tell who was a judge simply by their all-black ensemble and white leather gloves.
A judge finally made eye contact with her owner and headed toward them. Hermione immediately straightened.
He was pretty, with patrician features and carefully styled platinum blond hair. Several locks fell over his eyes, and he swept them away, revealing sharp grey eyes. He looked like a judge who took his job seriously – one who would not miss a single detail nor give her any allowances.
She hoped she would pass his test.
“Good afternoon.” He addressed her owner when he finally got to their station. “Mr. Grimes, I believe?”
“Doctor Grimes,” her owner corrected, shuffling forward.
“Of course. My apologies, Doctor Grimes,” he swiftly rectified. “My name is Draco Malfoy. I will be the one judging you this afternoon.”
“Pleasure to have you,” her owner drawled in an oily voice. “This here is my beloved pet, Hermione.”
Mr. Malfoy made a noise of pleasure as he turned his attention to her. His eyes ran down her body, and Hermione almost shuddered at the phantom touch. “What a beautiful name. Shakespeare?”
“Indeed.”
“May I begin?”
“Please do.”
Mr. Malfoy stepped in front of her, towering over her with his impressive height. He removed his gloves and tucked them into his back pocket. Starting at the top, he stroked her head and threaded his fingers through her hair.
“Lovely texture here. Curls are much harder to manage; I don’t see them often.” He lightly grasped one of her pigtails and gave it a gentle tug, much different from the yank her owner had given her prior. “The hairstyle is a nice touch. It complements her overall look.”
Hermione preened, her chest warming at the kind words. When was the last time her owner had complimented her? It felt like it had been forever.
Moving on, Mr. Malfoy bent at the waist to examine her face. Warm palms cupped her cheeks, and he turned her head from side to side. “Such a pretty face on this one. I’ve never seen such big, brown eyes before.”
Hermione’s eyelashes fluttered. She wasn’t expecting such pretty words to be bestowed on her. This judge was obviously experienced, but he was so kind.
His thumb ran over her plush lips and lifted her upper lip. “Nicely maintained teeth as well. Does she bite?”
Her owner chuckled. “Only if you ask, sir.”
Mr. Malfoy smirked.
Fingers traveling down, he stroked the diamonds on her collar and trailed a finger along the dangling strands. Then, he cupped her breasts. They were heavy in his palms, and he massaged them gently.
Hermione nearly squirmed but quickly stilled when her owner gave her a sharp look. It was important that she stay still during the examination portion. Any fidgeting or noise often resulted in a deduction.
“Lovely,” Mr. Malfoy murmured. “Quite lovely indeed.” He tested the weight of her breasts by bouncing them lightly. He spread his hands over each breast, trying to see if he could grasp them, but they spilled out between his fingers. “Wonderful size and feel. They have a nice bounce to them; I quite like that.”
Her owner thanked him, but his words were garbled to Hermione’s ears.
Mr. Malfoy’s ministrations were getting to her – Hermione could feel her cunt clench with every stroke. His hands were smooth except for a row of calluses that scraped against her skin. Even the metal of his rings made her breath hitch. She was getting drunk on his touch alone.
He pinched her nipples, and she squeaked in surprise.
As soon as she realized what she did, horror dawned upon her.
Hermione’s eyes jumped to her owner, preparing herself for a look of severe disappointment. But before she could register her owner’s expression, Mr. Malfoy redirected her attention to him with a gentle tap to her cheek. There, she was greeted with a pleased smirk. She noticed a dimple on his left cheek.
“May I ask why you decided to pierce her nipples?” Mr. Malfoy asked, stroking the apple of her cheek with his thumb.
“I thought they would suit her. It was a gift, after winning the Tribeca competition last year.”
“I see.” Mr. Malfoy’s eyes hooded as he took in the jewelry adorning her nipples. There was a flash of teeth as he bit down on his lower lip. “It was a good idea. The gold really brings out the color of her areolas. May I test her responsiveness?”
“Please do.”
He nodded, then he bent at the waist to suckle at her nipple. His tongue lapped against the rosy peak, getting it nice and slick, before he pulled away and blew gently. Hermione shuddered, thighs squeezing together. Her nipple hardened so quickly it ached.
Hermione was dripping – there was a puddle beneath her cunt, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be ashamed.
“Good response, even with the piercings. I’m impressed.” Every word he spoke blew a little bit more air on her peaked nipple, and Hermione struggled to stay still.
When he stepped away from her, she nearly whimpered. She’d been examined before by numerous judges but there was something about this judge that made her blood sing. His touch made her burn. Even worse, he made her hope.
But hope for what? This was just a competition, was it not? He wasn’t her owner, he had no obligation to take care of her or make her happy. And yet…and yet…
Mr. Malfoy stepped away to jot down some notes in his notebook. Her owner came up and laid a heavy hand on her head.
“I heard that noise you made earlier. I expected better out of you.” The disappointment in her owner’s voice seeped into her brain. “No more missteps or else.”
Hermione shook herself. She had to focus. There was a competition to win, and she couldn’t mess up now just because this judge had nice hands and a clever mouth.
“Moving on to the next portion. I trust you taught her all the standard commands, as detailed in the competition manual?”
“Yes, sir, she knows them all. I’m confident she’ll follow them as well.”
“Mmm, we shall see.”
Mr. Malfoy reappeared before her, this time with his hands clasped behind his back.
Hermione watched him, ready and alert.
The first few commands were simple, and she breezed through them easily. When he said stand, she stood. When he said sit, she sat. When he said shake, she raised her hand and Hermione stared at how his hand engulfed hers completely.
“Speak,” he ordered.
Hermione looked up at him coquettishly. “Hello, sir.”
Mr. Malfoy raised a brow and the corner of his lips quirked slightly. She flushed with pride at his amusement.
He slowly started backing away and Hermione tilted her head. She itched to follow him and her muscles tensed. “Stay,” he said, raising a hand, making her freeze on command. He stopped when he was several feet away. Finally, he curled his fingers. “Come to me.”
Hermione scrambled off the podium. Her collar made tinkling noises as she trotted over to him, and she stopped mere inches away.
“Good girl,” he praised, stroking her cheek and under her chin. “Sit.”
Hermione immediately kneeled before him. She placed her hands on her thighs and squeezed her arms together, pushing her breasts out. Maybe if she did this, he’d fondle them again.
Mr. Malfoy just smiled at her indulgently. Although his eyes were such a cold color, they sparkled at her warmly. She wanted to lick the dimple on his cheek and nuzzle his jawline. God, she wanted to bury her face into the crook of his neck.
His hands went to the belt of his pants to unbuckle his belt. The noise of the metal clinking against his rings had her squirming on the ground.
The way the leather slid out of his belt loops was oddly enticing. Hermione could vividly imagine that very same belt, folded in half and snapped across her backside until it was bright red.
With a shake of her head, she quickly got a hold of herself before she fell too deeply into her own fantasies.
This was still a competition, after all.
Mr. Malfoy tugged his cock out, and Hermione sighed. She had never seen one as lovely as his. He was respectably long and thick, with a slight curve to him. To her mild surprise, he was already hard – the tip was flushed a dark red, and there was a vein on the underside that made saliva pool in her mouth.
She leaned forward without realizing it, and Mr. Malfoy tutted at her. “Ah, stay. Stay.”
Hermione fell back onto her haunches and pouted prettily.
“Do you want it?” Mr. Malfoy cooed at her, palming his cock. He stroked himself languidly.
She nodded eagerly. The swollen tip of his cock was leaking, and Hermione whimpered, desperate to have a taste. She was panting by now with the efforts of her self-restraint. There was only a single thought swirling around that pretty head of hers, and it was the thought of taking his fat cock so deep into her throat that she choked.
Mr. Malfoy’s head tilted as he appraised her. “Oh, you are the very image of puppy dog eyes. Sweet little thing, aren’t you? This is my favorite command, so I hope you do a good job. Beg,” he ordered.
“Please, sir, please let me taste you.” Hermione wriggled eagerly, heavy breasts swaying. Her face tilted up towards him, and she batted her eyelashes. “Haven’t I been a good girl for you? Please, I promise I’ll swallow you. I’ll take your entire cock down my throat. Won’t you let me, please?”
“Good girl,” he murmured with approval. “Such lovely begging. I do believe you’ve earned yourself a treat.” He pumped his dick with his hand, smearing his pre-cum over the tip before presenting it to her. “Here you go. Now, suck.”
She dropped her jaw, and Mr. Malfoy slid his cock into her waiting mouth. Hermione moaned, brain turning to slush as his velvety skin rubbed against her tongue. Her jaw popped as she stretched her mouth around him, eager to take as much as she could, and Mr. Malfoy groaned in appreciation. His chin dropped to his chest as he fucked her mouth.
“Oh, watch your teeth, pet,” he murmured, stroking her curls away and tucking them behind her ears. His sweet gestures were jarring when placed aside his increasingly rough strokes. The dichotomy made her head spin. “There we go, that’s my girl.”
If this was what bliss felt like, she never wanted to leave. His taste was in her mouth, pressing against her tongue and filling her senses. His hands were in her hair, tugging her curls and massaging her scalp. His scent filled her nose, oaky with an apple-like finish that reminded her of those finely aged wines her owner loved to sip on.
And the praise, oh the praise.
Hermione stared dreamily up at Mr. Malfoy as he adorned her with the sweetest words ever. It had been so long since she’d been told how good she was, she had forgotten how it made her feel.
Yes, oh yes. She could drown in his praise and die a happy little thing.
“That’s my sweet girl. You’re doing such a good job swallowing my cock, aren’t you? I know, I know, it’s difficult,” he cooed when his cock slipped a little too deep and tears sprang up in her eyes. “Breathe, sweetheart, you can handle it.”
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to relax her throat. A tear slipped down her cheek before his finger caught it. She opened her eyes just to see him lick his finger clean.
He slipped deeper into her throat, and her nose pressed against the golden hairs at the base of his cock. He moaned low and heady, like a satisfied purr from a predator who could eat her alive.
Mr. Malfoy roughly fucked her mouth, gripping her hair and pulling her mouth down his length. Tears kept streaming down her face, and drool was covering her chin, but Hermione happily took everything he gave her.
Hermione could feel his cock swelling. His thrusts were getting sloppier, and his hips were jerking. He was close, and Hermione ached to have him spill down her throat.
Suddenly, he pulled away. His cock slipped out of her mouth and slapped against his lower stomach, leaving a wet imprint on his dark shirt. She whined and tried to follow him, but he kept her back by her hair.
Mr. Malfoy chuckled in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. Sweat beaded his hairline and down his temples. “I can’t believe I almost forgot myself. Your mouth is deadly, my dear; you almost made me mess up the exam. We can’t have that now, can we?”
Hermione pouted as he tucked himself away and fixed his clothing. She even opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. To her dismay, Mr. Malfoy shook his head with an amused look on his face.
“What has you so eager?” He idly fixed her messy curls. “Don’t you do this enough at home?”
Hermione debated on answering. It wouldn’t be a great decision to expose her owner as neglectful, but if she answered truthfully, maybe he would…
Maybe he would what?
There was no chance he’d buy her away.
And yet, Hermione hesitantly shook her head, averting her eyes.
Mr. Malfoy was silent. She felt him cup her chin and tilt her head up.
“Hermione.”
She held her breath. Her name sounded so nice on his tongue. She wanted to remember it always, just in case she never saw him again.
He leaned down until their faces were inches apart.
“Does your owner neglect you? Are you not treated well?” His voice was low enough that her owner wouldn’t hear. There was so much genuine concern in those piercing eyes of his that it made her want to cry.
Hermione couldn’t bring herself to say it. Instead, she bit her lip and looked down.
His grip on her chin tightened, nearly to the point of pain. But then, he let her go with a curt nod. “I see,” he said, staring in the direction of her owner. There was a cold look on his face, but when Hermione blinked, that expression disappeared.
Mr. Malfoy smiled down at her warmly. “Shall we go back?”
He led her back to her station with a gentle tug of her collar.
“I trust everything was up to your expectations?” Her owner hovered over them. He held a hand out for her collar but Mr. Malfoy ignored it.
Mr. Malfoy helped her onto the pedestal and gave her a gentle pat on the head.
“Yes, she exceeded them.”
“Good, good,” her owner muttered, dabbing the back of his neck with his handkerchief.
Mr. Malfoy went to briefly write something down on his notepad. Hermione stared at him, unsure what to make of everything.
There was hope building within her, and she tried to squash it down. It was unrealistic to hope; hadn’t that been drilled into her? There was no way Mr. Malfoy would buy her from her owner. After winning so many competitions, she knew she was worth a hefty price, and there was no chance Mr. Malfoy could afford her. He was just a judge, after all, was he not?
The only way she’d be free for someone else is if she lost this competition and her owner abandoned her like he had threatened.
But then, would Mr. Malfoy even want her anymore?
What good would she be if she didn’t win?
“As you know, there is one last portion of the exam.” Mr. Malfoy was back, with his hands clasped behind him. This time, however, there was a gleam to his eyes.
“Yes, the performance part.” Her owner stroked the top of her head. Before, she used to preen at the slightest bit of attention from him, but now, it felt empty. It lacked the warmth and adoration she had tasted just a few minutes ago. “Please, whenever you are ready.” Her owner eyed her with a dark chuckle. “Don’t be afraid to be a little rough.”
Mr. Malfoy tilted his head in acknowledgment.
“Hello again,” he greeted her as he approached. “Are you ready?”
A thrill ran down her spine, and she nodded eagerly. She couldn’t help the excited little wriggle that her bottom made.
“Good girl. Let’s see what you can do. Down, on your back.”
Hermione immediately rolled over. The diamonds on her neck clinked as she moved to her back, showing him her soft tummy. She curled her hands above her breasts, waiting for his next move with shining eyes.
Mr. Malfoy hummed, placing a warm palm on her calf. Slowly, his hand slid upwards and he parted her legs. A whine began to form in the back of Hermione’s throat.
“So pink here,” he noted as he idly began stroking her cunt. His thumb nudged against her clit with every pass, making her drip onto the pedestal. “Slick, too. Looks like someone is eager.”
Hermione whimpered, toes curling when he massaged her entrance with two fingers. He pulled his hand away, and she wanted to cry.
“Roll over.”
Hermione obeyed, getting on all fours. She dropped her arms and arched her back, presenting her arse like she had been taught.
There was a sharp inhale. “Oh.” Mr. Malfoy palmed her arse and spread her cheeks for a better look. “What a lovely surprise.”
There was a gentle tap on the diamond plug that was in her arse. Hermione squirmed as he took hold of the flared base and twisted it slightly. Her whole body tensed, and her cunt squeezed around nothing, aching for something to fill that hole.
“I didn’t say this before, but diamonds look lovely on you.” He slowly pulled the toy out and pushed it back in. After having the plug in her for so long, this new friction was nearly unbearable. Her legs trembled, and she panted into the podium. Slick was dripping down her thighs.
She heard him undo his zipper along with the soft rustling of fabric.
“Doctor Grimes, do you have a preference for where I should start?” Mr. Malfoy called out.
“No, sir, whatever you please. She can handle anything you give her.”
“Fantastic.” Two fingers suddenly sank into her cunt, and Hermione gasped at the intrusion. He was knuckles deep inside her, massaging her inner walls with curls of his fingers. She moaned helplessly. “You’re clenching around my fingers so tightly. Should I be concerned that I won’t fit?”
Her answer was to push her bum towards him, fucking herself on his fingers.
Mr. Malfoy chuckled. The sound of his amusement covered her skin like a warm blanket.
The next thing she knew, the tip of his cock was pressing against her cunt. With a heady sigh, he slid inside her.
Hermione moaned like the filthy little pet she was. Between the plug in her arse and his thick cock inside her cunt, she was so full she could barely breathe. His hips pressed tight against her arse as she clenched around him, legs shaking.
“Oh, sweetheart, fuck.” Mr. Malfoy’s fingers dug into her hip. “So this is what a Best in Show cunt feels like.” There was a tinge of wonder in his voice. She would’ve been pleased had she not been so focused on his cock filling her up.
She had had a variety of cocks inside her before, but Mr. Malfoy’s left her feeling stuffed. When he rolled his hips, she wheezed, scrambling to grab something on the pedestal.
Mr. Malfoy fucked her like a consummate professional. His strokes were measured and purposeful, but deep enough to make her whine like a common breed. Her face pressed into the pedestal with every wet slap of his hips, and she panted, desperately gasping for breath. It was embarrassing how close she was to coming already.
“Thank you, sir, yes, thank you, thank you,,” she babbled as he pounded her dripping cunt. He tilted her hips with his hands, forcing her to an angle that made her see stars.
When he tugged on the plug in her arse, Hermione yelped. It was too much for her to handle, the stretch of both her arsehole and her cunt. As soon as he twisted the plug, she came with a broken scream.
Her entire body shook, and slick gushed out of her cunt, coating the insides of her thighs. Mr. Malfoy stopped his movements and let her ride out her orgasm. She clenched helplessly around him, making pathetic little noises as she came down.
“Good girl,” Mr. Malfoy soothed, stroking her arse. “That was a beautiful orgasm you gave me. Of course, the competition requires at least three, so we still have more work to do.”
Hermione barely had time to take another breath before he started up again. This time, he pounded her cunt with everything he had. She was stretched around his thick cock, unable to do anything but take his hard thrusts.
A possessive hand wrapped around the back of her neck, keeping her head pressed into the pedestal. His other hand gripped her hip and yanked her back onto his cock, bouncing her arse against him.
She hoped the sounds of them fucking would echo throughout the entire arena. She hoped everyone saw who was fucking her and burned with jealousy.
As if he read her mind, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Look around you.” Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. It felt like she was looking in on a dream – everything was hazy but she could still make out prying eyes and envious glares. “None of these other pets will know the feeling of my cock inside them. Only you. Don’t you feel special? Everyone is looking at us.”
Hermione’s eyes rolled back on a particularly hard thrust. His weight pressed down on her, and her knees slid outward, spreading her wide. Mr. Malfoy took the opportunity to sink even deeper inside her, hitting her cervix and making her cry out.
She felt full to the brim, ready to burst at any second. Her first orgasm had been fast, but this one was creeping up, consuming her whole.
The slap to her arse took her by surprise. The impact was so swift, so sharp, that Hermione arched her back and came so hard that she saw white.
She struggled to take a breath. There was ringing in her ears, and her body felt hot and oversensitized. Mr. Malfoy stroked her head, and she mewled weakly. She was flat on the pedestal, the strength to keep herself up having left her completely.
Mr. Malfoy continued petting her, arranging her curls, and massaging her arse.
“That’s two. Only one more go. Do you think you can handle it?”
Despite how boneless and worn out she felt, Hermione forced herself to nod. She had to, for the competition. If she didn’t win, what value would she have to anyone?
Even more, she wanted as much time with this man as possible. She’d take anything he was willing to offer.
“Roll over for me,” Mr. Malfoy commanded, holding her hips and helping her move.
Hermione rolled onto her back and stared dreamily up at him. He was still so pretty, even now with his hair in disarray. His shirt had become unbuttoned, and there was a bright flush across his cheeks and down his chest. A tattoo on his left collarbone peeked out from under his shirt.
He bent her legs until the tops of her thighs were pressed against her belly. His cock bobbed between them, slick and shiny from her cunt.
“For your last one, I want you to hold it until I say you can come. That will be your last command of the day. Do you understand?”
Hermione nodded. He hovered over her, blocking out the lights of the stadium and cocooning her in a space that was wholly his. The rest of the world fell away as he held her gaze with his gray eyes. No competition. No owner. She felt safe beneath him, as if no one could hurt her again.
Mr. Malfoy gently pulled the plug out of her arse, earning himself a surprised little gasp. He scooped up some of the slick dripping out of her cunt and replaced the plug with his fingers. He gently probed her arsehole, getting the opening nice and wet.
Hermione moaned, eyelashes fluttering. Her first two orgasms had exhausted her, but the more Mr. Malfoy played with her arse, the more keyed up she became. Soon, he was three fingers deep, and she was panting for more.
“Beautiful, aren’t you?” Mr. Malfoy stared down at her with glittering eyes. “So eager for me to fill every hole. Your cunt was so tight around me; I can’t wait to see how your arse will feel. You look so pretty just laying there as I prepare you. I expected nothing less from last year’s Best in Show.”
Her cunt leaked at his words, wetting his fingers. He removed them from her arse and wiped them clean on her thighs. Taking his cock into his fist, he pumped himself once before he lightly slapped it against her cunt. Hermione bit her lip in anticipation.
Bracing himself on his hand, he curved his body down until his face was so close, their breaths mingled. “Do you think you can take me in that sweet arse of yours? Do you think you can hold off until I let you come?”
Hermione nodded eagerly. Her hands hooked under her knees to keep her spread and open, just for him.
Mr. Malfoy ran the length of his cock along her cunt, letting her juices cover him, and then he pressed the blunt tip against the tight ring of her arsehole.
Hermione’s mouth fell open in a silent cry. He pushed and pushed, and her body stretched to accept him.
“Yeesss,” Mr. Malfoy hissed as he sank deeper inside her. He pulled back a bit before rolling his hips in more – out, in, out, in, a hypnotizing rhythm that made her focus on nothing but the seductive drag of his length. Finally, he slid the entire way home, and they both groaned out loud.
Hermione felt so incredibly full. He was larger than any toy she had ever had before, and her arse burned from the stretch. And yet, she was whimpering and whining for more, writhing on the pedestal for him to fuck her.
Mr. Malfoy began to snap his hips. “Fuck,” he panted, reaching up to palm her bouncing breasts. He pinched her nipple, and she squealed. She was a complete mess beneath him, slick pouring out of her endlessly, making every slap of their skin loud and obscene. “God, you look so pretty. I love the sight of you stretched around my cock like this.” His other hand played with her clit, and Hermione screamed, slapping a hand down onto the pedestal. “Oh, is that too much? Is that what will make you come?”
There was a glint to his eyes as he smirked down at her. He continued rubbing her clit in hard tight circles, making her legs twitch and her body seize. “Oh, but you won’t come yet, will you? Because I told you you can’t. And you’re such a good little pet, you wouldn’t dare disobey me.”
He was right. She wouldn’t dare. Because then she would lose, and this would all be over.
“Such a cute, sloppy little pet,” Mr. Malfoy cooed. His fingers had slipped inside her. Hermione was delirious with pleasure. She was bent in half, and Mr. Malfoy used his weight to press into her. Her knees were almost by her head, and she was completely trapped beneath his frame.
Grabbing her face, he forced her to look at him. His thumb hooked into her mouth, and Hermione parted her lips, sticking out her tongue. “Do you want to come?”
She nodded furiously, too far gone for actual words. He stopped rubbing her clit, and Hermione sobbed.
Mr. Malfoy smirked deviously, that dimple of his making one last appearance before he slapped her cunt. “Good girl. Now, come for me.”
Hermione’s legs shook as she came, and she squirted all over him, drenching their lower halves. Mr. Malfoy fucked her through her orgasm until he was coming too. She shuddered in delight, knowing that his cum was filling her up.
She didn’t realize she was making pathetic little whimpers until Mr. Malfoy shushed her gently, stroking her hair and face. His touch was so comforting that everything around her began to fade.
The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was Mr. Malfoy’s face, looking down at her with warm adoration.
“Come along, our driver is here.”
Her collar was tugged, and Hermione followed her owner. She cradled the Best in Show trophy in her arms.
Her owner was obviously pleased, walking through the hallway with a swagger to his step. Who wouldn’t be after the hefty check he had just received?
Despite the joy she had over winning, Hermione felt…lost. It was like the layer of ice that had kept her underwater had been broken, and now she didn’t know if she could go back to the life she had had before.
All she could think about was Mr. Malfoy’s touch, his words, and his warm grey eyes.
How was she supposed to continue, now that she knew what he was like? How could she be truly happy, knowing she’d most likely never see him again?
Hermione felt a prickle at the back of her neck, and she stopped in her tracks. She wasn’t sure why, but something was telling her to turn around.
When she did, she saw him.
Mr. Malfoy.
He stood too far away for her to see his expression. Hermione’s hand came up to wave at him.
Before she could reach out, her collar was yanked.
“Hey, now is not the time to start disobeying me. I said let’s go,” her owner snapped. He gave her a final tug, and she had no choice but to follow.
When she snuck another peek over her shoulder, Mr. Malfoy was gone.
A week later, Hermione was shaken roughly from her sleep.
“Get up. Get dressed.” Her owner’s voice was gruff. He threw a dress at her before he left, slamming the door behind him.
Hermione rubbed her eyes before glancing out her small barred window. The sky was barely lightening at this point, it was so early. Her owner never woke her up at this time. What was going on?
She put on the dress, a simple white thing with ruffles that made her look more virginal than she actually was, and left her room.
Her owner was already in the hallway. His arms were crossed, and his foot was tapping. He didn’t seem pleased.
“Come on.” He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along. Hermione winced at the strength of his grip, certain she would bruise. She made a slight questioning noise, and her owner snapped at her, “Shut up! How dare he, that fucking bastard…” He dissolved into incoherent grumblings, and Hermione couldn’t understand a single thing he said.
Finally, he pulled her into the sitting room. There was a man standing before the fireplace, his back turned to them.
Hermione’s heart pounded.
She knew that hair. She remembered that frame.
Mr. Malfoy turned around and greeted her with a pleased smirk.
“Hello, Hermione.”
She stood frozen by the door. What was going on? Why was he here?
Mr. Malfoy caught the way her owner gripped her wrist, and his eyes narrowed. “I suggest you take your hands off of her, Doctor Grimes.”
Her owner scoffed and threw her arm away from him as if she was diseased. Hermione cradled her wrist to her chest, looking at Mr. Malfoy with wide eyes.
“There, I’ve brought her. Are you happy? Now, do as you agreed.”
Mr. Malfoy seemed unimpressed by her owner’s blustering. He pulled out his phone and tapped out a message. He wasn’t wearing any gloves, and Hermione could vividly remember the way his long fingers dug into her hips.
“It is done,” he intoned, tucking the phone away. “You’ll be happy to know that all of your debts have been paid off. In return…” Mr. Malfoy arched an expectant eyebrow.
“Fuck you,” her owner spat. “Here, take her.”
He shoved her forward, and Hermione stumbled on unsteady legs. Mr. Malfoy met her halfway and scooped her into his arms. She instinctively buried her face beneath his jaw and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The two men exchanged more words, but Hermione couldn’t be bothered to listen. She was too overjoyed, rubbing her face contentedly against Mr. Malfoy’s skin.
He carried her over the threshold and out of the house that she had called home for as long as she could remember. As he walked to the row of parked cars, she lifted her head to stare up at him.
“I dont…I don’t understand,” Hermione whispered.
Mr. Malfoy chuckled, his laugh rumbling against her and warming her throughout. “Did you think you’d never see me again? I saw the way he treated you, and I saw the way you reacted to me. My decision was made the moment you looked up at me with those beautiful eyes of yours.”
He readjusted her, and she clung tighter to him. His arms were so comforting around her that she never wanted to leave.
“After the show, I did some digging. It seems that your previous owner had a knack for gambling large amounts of money and losing it to very terrible people. The money you earned from your shows was the only way he stayed afloat. So, I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. If her cash earnings were barely enough, she couldn’t imagine what the full amount of debt was. “W-why would you do that? I’m not worth that much.”
Mr. Malfoy stopped.
“I could kill that man,” he muttered to himself darkly, squeezing her tightly to his chest.
There was a furious look in his eyes. It should have scared her but it didn’t. She knew that he was upset on her behalf, not upset at her.
“Hermione,” he said, catching her gaze. The way he said her name made her heart skip embarrassingly. “From now on, I need you to forget everything that that man ever told you. I can assure you, it was all a lie because you are worth all the gold in the world and more.”
Hermione began to shake her head but Mr. Malfoy tutted at her.
“Ah ah, listen to me. You are a treasure. A priceless gem. You deserve an owner who pampers you, not one who parades you around to pay off his debts.”
A wry smirk tilted the corner of his lips and the dimple she adored made an appearance. “I can see your mind racing. Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. I have enough to pay that pathetic man’s debts twice over and still spoil you rotten with gold and jewels. My only goal now is to shower you with my love and make sure you are never in want of anything. Is that quite alright with you?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. Hermione nodded, sniffling quietly. She never thought she’d be here, so warm and so safe in his arms. Everything he said sounded like a dream.
Mr. Malfoy dipped his head so he could gently rub his nose against hers. Hermione’s stomach fluttered at the show of affection.
“From now on, my sweet little pet, you’ll be mine.”