Night before Third Task
Lucifer traced the rim of her arsehole with one finger, following the perimeter of the nozzle so slowly she swore she could feel the grooves of his fingerprints.
"Are you ready, baby?"
Hermione buried her face in the teddy bear he'd given her for emotional support.
As far as comfort value, the bear couldn't hold a candle to Lucifer, but his fuzzy body was soothing, and she needed all the help she could get in her current predicament.
It wasn't every day she found herself kneeling on the furniture with her arse waggling about in the air.
Well . . . okay, maybe it was becoming her default position, but doing it on a changing table was an entirely different experience, and having her bowels filled with water was in no way a common occurrence.
"I said, are you ready, baby? You're still with me, aren't you?"
"Yes, Daddy," she answered, but her voice wobbled as if she were part turkey.
Clearing her throat, she tried again, "I'm ready."
"Have you got Mr. Bear?"
"That's not his name," she muttered, hiding her face in the bear's plush belly.
"No? What is it?"
"Colonel Brandon."
It took a couple of seconds, but then his low, rolling laugh filled the room. "Have you been reading Jane Austen again, love?"
"Yes, Daddy. Will you read it to me tonight?"
"Of course. Anything you like. All right then, have you got Colonel Brandon? Is he keeping you calm?"
"Um . . . mostly."
"Well," he tittered, obviously amused by her reservation, "I'll be right here if he isn't enough." His hands caressed her rump in a reassuring manner, patting down her anxiety with his palms. "I'm going to turn on the water now, so try to relax, okay, baby?"
"Okay."
Relax? He knew very well that after everything he'd put her through, relaxation would be impossible.
While she'd admittedly recovered from her "equestrian adventure" with surprising alacrity, the seemingly simple process of nappy removal turned out to be a Lucifer Special.
His version included a lot of crinkly crotch rubbing, which he claimed would soak up all the cummies she'd made for him.
Of course that had only made her wetter, and if his grin was any indication, he knew exactly how much wetter.
When it came time to take out the plug and dildo, she got what could only be called a "reverse fucking," where instead of being precipitously filled with each thrust, her pussy lost its deposit.
Her muscles put up a good fight, struggling to keep the toy internal, but everything was so damn slippery.
She couldn't keep hold.
After that cruel exodus, he proceeded to "kiss her all better," which translated to him pushing back her legs and tonguing her to the brink of tears.
Just as the rush of orgasm approached, he rudely cut off all contact, leaving her bereft and vibrating with need, her body straining toward release.
Precisely where he wanted her.
'Click.'
The snap of the flow regulator sent a shiver of adrenaline through her bloodstream, somehow freezing her with gooseflesh while simultaneously scalding her with a fever.
Warm water trickled into her rectum, and in response, Muffy released what felt like an ocean of enthusiasm.
While Hermione appreciated a spontaneous lubing, the humiliation currently fricasseeing her face made it difficult to embrace such a profusion of arousal.
"Did you just come?" Lucifer asked, his tone gleeful rather than accusatory.
"No, Daddy. It's just . . . wet."
"I see." And he did indeed, easing aside one slick labium for a visual inspection. "Well, well," he said, trying to sound serious but apparently unable to stop laughing. "Didn't I just lick this pussy clean a few minutes ago?"
"Mm-hm. Will you lick me clean again, Daddy?" She arched her back to lure him in.
"No-o-o," he chuckled. "No more cummies until I'm deep inside this sweet little bottom hole."
He kissed the base of her bum, right next to her pussy, and Hermione's vision went dark, the majority of her blood stampeding from her head to her pelvis. "Uuuunnh!"
"Shhhhhh. You're getting too tense. Take a deep breath for me."
She did, her lungs stretching to full capacity, the extra oxygen smothering some of her urgency.
"Now let it out—slow as you can. That's it. I want you to focus on keeping your breathing light and easy. Try closing your eyes and picturing yourself in a place you find relaxing."
Behind her eyelids, Hermione immediately saw herself sleeping in the bed.
"Good girl. You're already unclenching. Now just rest there, and I'll tell you when the bag is empty."
"'Kay."
She heard him moving around, possibly studying her from different angles, but she refused to check.
At least with her eyes shut, she didn't have to see that huge bulge in his trousers slithering down his leg like an anaconda.
No doubt he'd had to open his flies to give that thing some air.
And he was probably stroking himself while he watched her, his hand loose, his thick knob gleaming with pre-ejaculate.
'Bah! Stop torturing yourself, Hermione! Go back to the bed in your head. It's night time and Lucifer's asleep around you. It's quiet. And warm. He's breathing on your neck, and holding your hand. Lucifer's dick is flaccid, and he isn't right behind you waiting to scramble your brains with his gargantuan stirring rod.
Don't start that!
Okay, okay. Lucifer is breathing deeply through his nose and puffing the air out through his mouth every few minutes. His heart is beating against your cheek.'
She grinned broadly. Lucifer's heart.
That enigma might not be as elusive as she'd once thought.
Hermione had always assumed it would take ages to penetrate his tough outer shell, but he'd gone and hacked away a thick layer of his own flakey crust without her help, exposing a side of himself she hadn't been expecting.
That whole "I want to take care of you" speech had sucker punched her right in the feelings, but when he'd said he'd keep her safe and never push her away, she'd experienced the oddest sensation—as if her awareness had doubled and she was processing their conversation on multiple levels.
With that split-screen perspective, she could see that, in his own way, he was telling her he loved her.
But at the same time, she knew, with absolute clarity, he was also telling her what he needed most.
It was Lucifer who wanted to feel safe. It was Lucifer who feared abandonment.
xxxxxxx
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