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Thirsty, Mudblood?

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"Thirsty, Mudblood?"

As prideful as Hermione was, she was also thirsty too. It must've been hours since she'd last had a drink, and it would be exceptionally foolish of her to pass up on this one. She nodded her head and reached out for the see=through flask that Malfoy was precariously holding, but as soon as she did, he pulled it out of her reach.

"Forgotten your manners already? You've only been here a week."

"Please may I have a drink?" Hermione overstressed the 'please'. The last thing she wanted was to have Malfoy lecturing her on manners, but she didn't have a choice. In the week she'd been here (she'd only just realised it was a week; for all she knew, it could've been a month), she'd spent the majority of the time alone and in complete darkness. That had its merits, in that she wasn't tortured for information or played with for fun, but the withdrawal of human contact was also hard to cope with.

"That's better," Malfoy said, passing her the flask. She grabbed it eagerly and began to drink, not even giving a second thought to the fact that it could be poisoned. It's not as if she could do anything about it if it was. "You won't get anywhere in this life with a foul mouth, Granger."

You did, Hermione thought, though dared not say it out loud. There was no use picking fights over nothing and causing herself undue harm. She was so thirsty that she'd guzzled down half the flask before she stopped for a breath, water dribbling down her chin. Malfoy screwed his eyes up in disgust, and Hermione's arm quickly went to her chin to wipe it with her sleeve.

"Keep the flask," Malfoy said with a laugh as he saw her clutching tightly onto it. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Bored once more, and ashamedly missing Malfoy's company already, Hermione curled up in a corner of her cell. Malfoy was a cruel, vicious being, much more so than she'd initially realised, but she was human, and she needed contact. Being kept alone in darkness for an entire week had done funny things to her mind, and she could have sworn she'd started seeing things that weren't there. At least this time he'd said he'd be back in a few hours, but Hermione wasn't really sure how much she could trust his word. Probably not as far as she could throw him, which wouldn't be very far at all.

The flask slowly went down, and just as she neared the end of it, a house-elf popped in with a little tray and another, identical, flask. The elf wouldn't speak to her, no matter how much Hermione tried to get a word out of it, but just kept pushing the flask towards her until she eventually took it. She muttered a quiet 'thanks' and opened it, enjoying the cool, refreshing taste as she drank it down. She discarded the little bit in the other flask, for it was now warm and would keep until later.

Hermione had already sated herself with the earlier flask, though, so she only took two or three sips from the new one before putting it down. She'd just started to doze off when she heard the familiar crack of Apparition again. She assumed it was Malfoy, but yet again it was a house-elf—the same one from earlier. It had yet another flask upon its tray.

"I'm fine, thanks," Hermione said, but the elf would not accept her answer. It wasn't the elf's fault, Hermione knew, so she just took the flask and placed it next to her. Perhaps Malfoy was giving her a week's supply before he left her alone again. Despite the fact that she hated Malfoy with a passion, she had trouble stomaching the thought of being left on her own for so long again. She might go mad!

After another hour or so, she got another visit from the house-elf. Maybe Malfoy was planning on driving her insane with the elf's annoying pop and insistence she take the new flask, as it always seemed to turn up just as she was dropping off. It looked between her and the flasks with an angry expression, before leaving in a huff. The house-elf was obviously not allowed to speak to her, but something was grating on it, and she expected Malfoy would have something to say to her when he got back.

When Hermione heard another crack of Apparition, she thought it was that annoying house-elf with another flask again. When she saw that it was Malfoy, she wasn't sure whether to be thankful or not, especially when the first thing he did was frown at the flasks beside her.

"Why haven't you drunk them all?"

"I can't drink that much so quickly," Hermione said innocently. "Besides, I thought you were giving me them for the week to come or something. I thought it best to save them."

"They were all for today. I had Gnor give them to you in stages so it didn't overwhelm you. Perhaps I shouldn't have made the effort."

"Er—" Hermione really didn't know what to say to that. Malfoy appeared put out that she didn't seem to appreciate his 'favour'. "Sorry?"

"You will be," Malfoy muttered nastily, a glare upon his face. He folded his arms and gestured towards the flasks. "Well go on then. Finish them."

"What? I can't, I'm not thirsty anymore."

"I said they were for today," said Malfoy, squatting down in front of her. "And you will drink them today. If I have to force them down you, I will."

Hermione scowled at the man in front of her. He was different from the boy he'd been at Hogwarts: confused, scared, and doing Voldemort's bidding because he had to. Now he was doing Voldemort's dirty work because he wanted to, and he was so far up in the ranks that he didn't need to be scared. People were scared of him now. People like Hermione. "Fine," she spat, grabbing the flask she'd only had a couple of sips out of. She managed four or five large ones, so the flask was half empty, before she put it down. Malfoy did not seem to appreciate her efforts.

"You are not finished." Angrily, Malfoy picked up the flask and shoved it into her mouth, putting pressure on it so the water fell down her throat and she had to tip her head back as far as it would go to stop from choking. Some rivulets escaped through the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin and onto her dress. She brought her hands up to grab the flask and try and pry it away from her, but Malfoy had an iron-like grip and he was not letting go. Only when the entire flask was empty did he loosen his grip and throw the flask off to the side. It took her a moment to catch her breath properly as she spluttered a little, struggling to cope with the amount of water Malfoy had just forced down her throat. He passed her the next full flask and, with a menacing tone, said, "Will you drink by yourself now?"

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding enthusiastically. Anything was better than being forced. She'd felt at several points as if she was going throw it back up in Malfoy's face, and while that would have been amusing for a while, it would have got old quickly once she'd incurred his wrath. She snatched the flask out of his warm hands and drank. Her sips were smaller this time, but she was drinking continuously. She tried not to think about how full her stomach already was and how sick the water was making her feel, nor how her bladder was starting to stir. She managed to get three-quarters through on her own, and was quite proud of herself. She avoided Malfoy's glare as she took a moment to collect herself before resuming drinking. He didn't appear pleased that she was taking so long, and had to adjust his squatting position. "There," she said when the flask was empty. "Done." She childishly threw it over Malfoy's shoulder, feeling a small sense of satisfaction when it hit the wall and bounced off onto the floor.

"There's still one more," Malfoy said with an evil smile as he gestured towards the previously forgotten flask next to her.

"I can't, Malfoy! I feel sick, and I've drunk so much already. Why do you care?"

"That is irrelevant," Malfoy said dismissively. He picked up the flask and forced it into her hands. "Drink."

Seeing no other option, Hermione grabbed the flask and began to drink again. Her continuous sips were even smaller, and it was taking forever to finish. She had to keep stopping every two or three sips lest she spit it all out, which was grating on Malfoy's nerves. He stood and paced the room as she struggled to finish, and his obvious anxiety wasn't helping her.

"If you'd just drunk it while I was out," he kept saying, over and over again. He was like a broken record. She didn't even know why he wanted her to drink so much so fast, it just didn't make sense. What could he possibly get out of it? "Done?" Hermione nodded and let the flask drop to the floor. She felt so full this time, her tummy was even bloating slightly. "How do you feel?"

"Sick, full."

"Anything else?"

Well, she needed to go to the toilet, but she didn't want to tell him that. "No."

"Really?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow and smirked. As anxious as he was, he hadn't missed the fact that drinking so much water in such a small space of time would make her need to go to the toilet. "How very odd."

Embarrassed, Hermione ignored him and stared straight past him at the wall. She'd drunk everything now, so maybe he'd go away soon. There was no more fun for him to have here.

"I can wait." Malfoy sat down opposite her. Unlike a few seconds ago, when he was clearly anxious and pacing, he now seemed relaxed and excited about something.

For...? Hermione thought, but didn't dare say. She just adjusted her gaze and stared elsewhere, ignoring the smirk and stare Malfoy was giving her, as well as the growing pain in her abdomen as her bladder grew fuller. "Can I have something to eat?" She asked after a few moments. It couldn't do any harm, surely. He was rarely ever here, and if it pissed him off enough, he might even bugger off.

"Not yet. Maybe later."

The answer was promising, but Hermione still didn't like the insinuation that he was waiting for something. In the back of her mind, she had an inkling about what he might be waiting for from the questions he'd asked and the smugness in his voice, but it was so horrific that she didn't really want to acknowledge it. Could Malfoy really be that sadistic and cruel? And what could he really gain from that anyway? "How long are you planning on staying?"

"As long as necessary."

With each passing moment, Hermione's bladder was becoming more and more full as the great amount of water she'd drunk took its toll on her. She shifted uncomfortably and a hand unconsciously went to her tummy to hold it, in the vain hope that Malfoy would leave soon. He wouldn't, she knew deep down. He really was waiting for what she hoped he wasn't. "Can you step outside for a moment? Please?" Hermione asked at last, not sure how long she could hang on with her bladder becoming increasingly full.

Malfoy looked bemused and asked stupidly, "Why?"

"You know why," Hermione snapped, and Malfoy smirked broadly.

"Yes," he said slowly, "but I want to hear you say it."

"Will you step outside if I do?"

"No."

"Ugh!" It was a rare show of emotion from Hermione; she didn't really like Malfoy or anyone else to see what she was thinking or feeling, especially if they were getting to her. "I just want some privacy for five minutes. I need the toilet, that's all."

"Bucket's there," said Malfoy, gesturing to his left. He really wasn't going anywhere, it seemed, but Hermione was still determined not to debase herself enough to relieve herself in front of him. "Unless you want my help?"

Hermione frowned in confusion, even more so when he stood up and crossed over to her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a standing position, and she had to clench her muscles in order to stop the movement playing too much havoc on her bladder.

"Here," Malfoy said, placing an arm around her waist, and batting her arm away from her tummy with his other. He placed this hand on her stomach and gently began to massage her belly. "Maybe this'll help you relax enough to go."

"What are you doing?!" Hermione almost shrieked, and tried to step out of his grasp. She only managed to move backwards an inch or so though, for he'd fairly successfully trapped her against the wall.

"You seem to be having trouble, so I thought I'd offer my services. My, you're not very grateful, are you? I gave you water when you were parched and you were hardly thankful then, and now that you're struggling to relieve yourself, I'm offering you a helping hand and you're simply trying to discard me. Has anyone ever told you not to bite the hand that feeds you?"

"But you're not feeding me, Malfoy. Not properly, anyway. I'm starving."

"Yes, and how grateful would you be if I offered you food? Not a lot, going by today's reactions. What incentive is that for me to continue being nice to you?"

You're not being nice to me, you sadistic prat! Hermione thought, closing her eyes together tightly and trying to close her legs without Malfoy noticing. Each massage was getting harder and he was putting more pressure on her stomach, so that after several moments, he was no longer massaging, but rather pushing on her tummy. It was getting increasingly harder to hold onto her bladder, and she could no longer care what Malfoy thought as she needed to fully cross her legs in order to not relieve herself in front of him.

"There now," Malfoy said patronisingly. "There's no need to look so distressed."

"Isn't there?" Hermione quipped, her eyes opening wide. "Can you please just stop?"

Malfoy ignored her, allowing the hand around her waist to sink lower to her arse. "I've an idea," he said suddenly, and both his hands came away from her body. She sighed in relief, getting into a more comfortable position as Malfoy fished about in his robe pockets for something. Her relief was short-lived, however, for what he pulled out of his pockets did not look like an item she'd like.

"Do you know what this is, Hermione?" She shook her head, and Malfoy smirked. "No, I didn't think you would. It's an anal plug. It goes up your arse and keeps it spread nice and wide." Malfoy walked closer to her again, spinning the toy in his hand. "You're probably a virgin, aren't you?"

Hermione blushed profusely, looking away from Malfoy and towards the floor. He took a few more steps forward and lifted up her dress, and though she tried to stop him, her attempt was futile. He took his wand out of his other pocket and pointed it at her arse, and she jumped slightly when she felt herself become suddenly wet. She panicked and thought she might have wet herself, but when Malfoy placed a finger at her arsehole, she realised it was lube that he'd conjured and was now rubbing around both her hole and the plug. He turned her to the wall slightly, so he could get a better angle, and, too weak from all the water to fight him, she didn't try to stop him.

There was a lot of lube, but it still hurt as he tried to force it into her arse. Her body resisted, but Malfoy was relentless. He pushed, twisted and worked the object in until it passed her sphincter and slid the rest of the way in. It was embarrassing, and the increased pressure in her arse actually made holding onto her bladder harder. Every time she squeezed her muscles, the anal plug squeezed too, causing shock waves of pain throughout her belly and bum. It was a no-win situation, and sooner or later, something was going to give.

"Don't cry," Malfoy said, placing a finger under her chin and lifting it up. She wasn't technically crying yet, but there were tears in her eyes and she was close. "I thought the plug would help you, thought it would take your mind off your bladder."

Bastard.

"You're not having much luck today, are you?" Malfoy returned his hands to their previous positions, one caressing her arse and the other pressing on her tummy. This time, the pain was so immense that she couldn't hold on to all of her bladder, and a few drops of wee came out and dribbled down her legs. Malfoy would have noticed even if she hadn't groaned loudly in embarrassment, and he smiled brightly. "Good girl." His patronising 'compliment' made her feel sick, and she wanted to push him away and scream at him, but she was focusing all her efforts on not letting her bladder go any more.

Whether it was from stress, embarrassment or attempting to hold her bladder, Hermione began to sweat profusely. Malfoy's arms and the wall were basically holding her up, and she was hunching over slightly. Her eyes were shut, her legs were crossed and she was doing her best to distract her brain, but the more Malfoy pushed, the more control she lost due to the plug pressing onto her bladder. Little drops kept falling here and there, every few seconds, and when Malfoy pushed for all he was worth, Hermione let out an almighty scream as her bladder gave out and she wet herself in front of him.

Letting go of her bladder after so long was painful and humiliating, and the smell was repugnant. Feeling as though she'd lost all her dignity already, Hermione allowed herself to fall to the floor once Malfoy let her go, cradling herself as she lay in a puddle of her own urine. She didn't care any more. She'd lost what little she'd had left: her pride, her dignity and her self-respect. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to avoid Malfoy's smug face, hoping she'd just fade into the wall. She lay there sore, wet and uncomfortable, the urine cooling quickly and the plug in her arse still hurting her. The sound of robes being hurriedly discarded forced her to re-open her eyes; she'd been certain that Malfoy would be leaving now.

What she saw shocked her further, and she didn't even think it possible. Malfoy had taken off his outer robes, and pulled his trousers and boxers down slightly. His hand was tightly fisted around his cock and he was masturbating furiously. Masturbating over her, having been forced to wet herself and then lying in a puddle of her own piss. He was a truly despicable human being, and Hermione could look no longer. She closed her eyes once more, but that didn't stop her hearing his laboured breathing or the involuntary grunts he let out as he pleasured himself.

In an attempt to block it all out, Hermione placed her damp hands over her ears, but the closer Malfoy got to orgasm, the louder he got. It quickly became ineffective, but she didn't bother to remove them. At least this way he'd know how vile she found his actions. Malfoy emitted a very loud moan, and then Hermione felt something land upon her sodden legs, coating them further. She knew what it was, but she found it hard to stomach the reality.

"Well," Malfoy said jubilantly, his breathing a little awkward as he dressed himself. "That was entertaining. I suggest that in future, Granger, when offered a toilet, you use it. If you don't, you may well find yourself in this predicament on a regular basis."

The sheer thought of going through this again set her off, and tears streamed down her face out of her tightly closed eyes. She couldn't bare the humiliation. She'd thought relieving herself in the bucket in front of Malfoy would be humiliating, but she'd never imagined that this would be the consequence of her turning that option down. Had she known, she would have, reluctantly, gone with the bucket.

"Good night, Granger. I'll see you tomorrow."

Malfoy Disapparated, and Hermione was left alone once more. She wasn't yearning for human contact now, though. She never wanted to see his face again; she'd never be able to forget what happened, and what she had been reduced to. No doubt he'd tell everyone he ever met exactly how he'd degraded the once great Hermione Granger. Thinking about them all laughing at her was hard to bare. She attempted to curl in on herself some more, but failed miserably; she was already wound as tight as a coil.

If this was what Malfoy had in store for her, she'd take the miserable blackness and happily go insane. Nothing could be worse than this, nothing. A little voice in the back of her mind told her otherwise, but she pushed that to the very back. It would not do to dwell on how vile the situation could get. With a heavy heart, she tried to conjure all her happy memories as she attempted to doze off.

Only sleep could help her now.