Hermione took his hand and, clenching her teeth and her sphincter, levered herself up and perched on the edge of the table, her buttocks so tight she sat at least an inch taller.
Picking her up under the arms, Lucifer lowered her to the floor, and Hermione grabbed hold of her gut as a tidal wave crashed through her colon.
"I'm so full, Daddy. I need to go."
"No, baby," he said softly and then stroked her face so she looked up at him. "Ten minutes. By then the powder will have vanished anything in your bowels and you can breathe easy. If you let it out now, it'll be very messy, and we'll have to do it again to get you clean. I know you're uncomfortable, but I want you to show me you can keep that bottom tight for me."
She cradled her belly with one arm and put Colonel Brandon in a sleeper hold with the other. "Yes, Daddy."
Bending down, Lucifer pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "That's my girl. Now, are you sure you're ready for Daddy's lolly? I can wait if you need a break."
Hermione glanced at his trousers.
Gods, she wanted that cock! And it might help keep her mind off the interminable countdown. "I want it."
She looked him in the eye. "I always want it."
Lucifer's sneaky smile returned, and his hand wandered down to his zip. "Can you get on your knees, or do I need to help you?"
"I can do it by myself." I think. "Will you hold Colonel Brandon for me?"
"I'd rather not." He eyed the bear with a wary arch of one black brow.
Hermione almost lost it, choking on her guffaw. Who could have guessed stuffed animals would be Lucifer's kryptonite? "Please, Daddy. Just while I get in place."
"Very well." He pinched the bear's paw between his thumb and forefinger as if he didn't trust its squishy handshake.
What a strange man.
He had no inhibitions when it came to turning her into his little girl, but throw some fur-covered cotton batting at him, and he didn't know what to do.
As Hermione sank to the floor in slow motion, it dawned on her that Colonel Brandon might be his first foray into cuddlies, and then she wondered what he'd toted around for comfort as a child. Books?
Or was that just her?
When she was safely on her knees—nappy still dry—Hermione sighed in relief and held out a hand. "Okay. I'll take him back."
He passed the bear down to her, and she propped Colonel Brandon in the space between Lucifer's feet.
Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, but she could see he was struggling not to laugh.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked wearily.
"I work better with an audience."
Chuffing out a reluctant half-snort, Lucifer conceded with a nod. "All right . . . go ahead."
Hermione winked at Colonel Brandon.
The stitched smile remained steady, but she could tell he was impressed by not only her ability to curry favor with the Devil but also her audacious enthusiasm for his legendary leviathan.
'Fear not, my brave bear, for this beast and I are old friends. Watch how quickly he succumbs to my womanly wiles.'
Hermione reached into Lucifer's open flies and tucked her fingertips over the waistband of his boxers.
A tremor of exhilaration bubbled through her body, leaving a heady impetuosity in its wake.
She knew the encroaching intoxication of subspace when she felt it, but she'd never gotten there without a spanking before.
And instead of feeling sleepy-stoned like she usually did, she felt dizzily impish. Free. It was fun. 'Are you ready to play, Daddy?'
Yanking hard, she pulled down his trousers with enough force to make his cock spring back up like a perky gymnast.
She enjoyed the show, but all that jumping about made it difficult to assess the moisture levels.
'Had his underwear stolen the cream of the crop?' She left his trousers wreathed around his hips and went in search of libations.
Oo! A sparkle of pre-seminal promise clung to his tip, calling to her, begging for a lick, but she preferred to save the best for last. 'I'll come back for you later. Don't go anywhere.'
Pushing his shirt out of the way, Hermione bowed her head to calm his cock with a kiss.
He was twitching so hard all she had to do was get close, and it rose to meet her in a series of gravity defying pecks.
When her taste buds touched his shaft, she almost convulsed in a flavor-gasm. Sweet Merlin!
He tasted amazing—like want and lust tied together with an enormous bow of bollocks.
His hard-on jolted against her lips, ascending skyward as if beckoning her toward his most aromatic areas.
Hermione took its suggestion and ducked down to seal her mouth to the top of his sac.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, filling her senses with his scent as she tongued the loose skin surrounding his scrotum.
He must have liked that, because his erection sideswiped her cheek and banged into her temple like a staggering drunk.
She kind of wanted him to do it again—but on purpose. How did one request that kind of treatment?
'Oh, no, I'm resisting arrest, Officer Willyclub. Subdue me!' But wait, what if slapping wasn't quite what she wanted?
Was there some kind of rolling pin maneuver he could employ? She just wanted him all over her face, the smell of him impossible to escape.
Hermione rubbed her nose into his groin, humming merrily as his stiff rod buffeted her cheek.
She lapped at his sac with everything she had, and when he grunted and cupped the back of her head, encouraging her adoration, she slid her hand between his thighs to explore the bollock backcourt.
Obviously in favor of her plan and wanting to give her more room, Lucifer shifted his legs back and forth, shucking his layers like a reptile shedding its skin.
His clothes dropped to the floor, which toppled Colonel Brandon and, were he not made of stuffing, would have resulted in a serious head injury.
With a cry of playful disbelief, Hermione rescued her comrade and pretended to check for injuries while Lucifer kicked off his trousers.
Unfettered, his dick swung low and smacked his thigh.
Her eyes stayed with its heavy sway, unable—or unwilling—to lose sight of it for even an instant.
'Cock Glorious Cock!'
Shut it, Muffy! This is not the appropriate time for that song.
'Oh yes it is, dearie. All rise for the Cockpopolis National Anthem.'
I don't think I can.
'I wasn't talking to you, was I? Just put your hand over your heart and sing.'
Hermione dutifully placed Colonel Brandon's paw over his heart.
Muffy's anthem was rather short, which, given the time constraints, seemed for the best.
But Hermione wasn't sure if "hot custard-filled bollocks" really rhymed with "thrusting twixt my buttocks."
Still, she applauded the sentiment.
xxxxxx
Author's Note
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