Moon Dog

Chapter 10: Moon Dog

This chapter is dedicated to my beta and good friend, deathofme. She challenged me to incorporate this subject matter into my story, which I have done, but it has a purpose and is not just thrown in there for her perverse pleasure.

WARNING: The following chapter contains bestiality. It is not just in my story for the shock value and is an essential part of Hermione's account, and I believe a turning point in the story.

Lucius strode down to the dungeons. Behind him a cumbersome chain floated in the air. He had a surprise for the Mudblood, one he would enjoy immensely. His heavy boots echoed upon the stone floor as he made his descent. His prick stood at half-mast; it, too, was eager for the show.

He had sent Narcissa and Draco shopping this morning, allowing him ample time to take amusement with his slave. She had become willing in his sexual exploits of her body and no longer cried out when he carved into her skin with the precision of a surgeon. Nevertheless, her eyes still held defiance, and that was what he was hoping to rip from her with this next form of degradation.

He had taken her in every way imaginable, and she had become quite compliant to his every whim, willing to defile herself for whatever his devious mind could come up with. However, when he was done with her he would look into her eyes and see a spark barely recognisable unless one knew what to look for. It was this flicker of rebellion that he had to be rid of before he took her to his Master.

He had come up with the usual forms of mental torture for her in her first month of captivity. Placing tasteless poison into her food, or sometimes her drink. He would intersperse one with the other at intervals so she never knew which of her meals would be contaminated.

He knew how to break a prisoner and had seen many of them respond well to the mental breaking down of their defences by flashing lights and loud noises. So he had adopted those into her daily regime when he was too busy to tend to her himself. It appeared to have worked, for when he had entered her cell she had looked around wildly as though she were searching for something, never truly seeing him. Oh, she had put up a good fight that first night, but it seemed that some of her will to resist him had bled away with the blood of her virginity.

He had also developed something that he praised himself for whenever he thought about it. He would make the floor ice cold for a period of time and at other times scorching hot, making it virtually impossible for her to get to the table across her cell for sustenance.

He chuckled in self-appreciation. Yes, he would indeed enjoy the show.

Making it to the last chamber, he barged through the door. The sconces flared to life, illuminating the room in an eerie glow as he stopped just inside the doorway, his wand balanced precariously in one hand. The door slammed shut after Lucius and his guest were within the small prison.

Pointing his wand at a section of stone just to the right of the door, he produced a metal D-ring that hung out of the wall. Stepping fully into the room, he gathered up the heavy chain, securing it to the wall. Turning around, he faced the stubborn Mudblood, who was sitting quite calmly on the edge of the small cot. She was staring at the stone across from her, giving the impression that it was truly more fascinating than anything he might be doing.

"Today we begin the next part of your training." His voice was harsh, but she made no response as he knew she wouldn't. "I see that I have approached this entire procedure incorrectly; therefore, I have enlisted the help of a friend."

She was still staring off into space, absolutely still, giving no indication that she had heard him. He was perturbed, but didn't show it as he continued.

"In saying that, I have acquired this improbable beast on loan for the next few days." The muscles in her jaw moved imperceptibly, showing him that she was listening.

Splendid, he reflected as he continued speaking.

"This, my dim-witted little Mudblood, is a Moon Dog," he said, gesturing to the creature in question. "What, I hear you ask, is a Moon Dog?" Her hand flexed ever so slowly into a fist and if Lucius hadn't been watching her closely he might have missed it entirely. "It is a surprisingly ingenious creation of one of my comrades. The combination of a werewolf and an ordinary dog, hence, Moon Dog."

That got her attention, as he knew it would, and her head snapped over in the blink of an eye, to stare at the beast.

It was ugly, she determined, a huge salivating beast with impossibly long claws and teeth. Its coat was a dirty, shaggy brown and its paws were the size of small dinner plates. Hermione shuddered as she caught the beast's eyes; they were unlike any she had ever seen before. A mixture of colours, reds, browns and blacks, all mixed into one pupil. It must have been under some sort of containment spell, as only its eyes moved within its huge, repulsive head.

"Now I know that I could have come up with a far superior name for this beast." He paused and cocked his head to the side, watching her eye off the monster. "But you know Macnair and his penchant for stating the obvious."

He took a couple of steps towards her, his wand still in hand whilst his other arm reached beneath his robes to produce a tiny vial.

"Come here, slave," he demanded.

Her eyes jerked up from the beast's to his, showing a new form of terror that he had all but forgotten. Lucius almost jumped up and down with glee. She stayed stubbornly where she was.

"I said. Come. Here." He punctuated each word through his tightly clenched jaw, almost stamping his foot like a child denied a lolly.

She pleaded silently with her eyes not to be taken anywhere near the fiend, starting to shake, slowly at first and then more violently as the silence stretched on.

He closed in on her, pulling her up harshly by her arm with the hand that held his wand, almost dislocating her shoulder from its socket. She cried out as he threw her to the floor in front of the gigantic creature.

"This," he began coolly, as though he had not just thrown her onto the hard stone floor, "is the scent of a werewolf in heat." He held up a vial of clear liquid, tinged only slightly with a blood-red colour. "I obtained it from Macnair, who has been – shall we say – experimenting with the beast and his own current detainees." He paused, and as she tore her gaze from the vial and looked up into his eyes, he saw a look of abject horror on her face.

Good, let the Mudblood know who's boss, he thought to himself as he kept up his inscrutable mask.

He took a step towards her. Hermione felt as though she were glued to the spot by some unknown force. She could feel the beast's breath on her face, smell its putrid stench from her position on the ground. Her instinct was screaming at her to move, lash out, do something, but her body would not act in accordance with her wishes and so she remained there, laid out on the floor like some comical rag doll.

He lifted the vial up into the light that was reflecting off the stone walls as though he were studying it, his eyes drinking in its red-tinged hue. Her eyes swivelled back to the vial as she watched his hand swirl the semi-thick liquid as though mesmerised by what it contained. He could see her through the corner of his eye and smirked inwardly. This was definitely going to be thoroughly amusing for him.

Bringing the vial down towards his side, he waved his wand lazily in the air directly in front of her and she gave a startled shriek as she was lifted into the air and then placed down, not too gently, on all fours, her back towards the creature. She tried to struggle, but it was useless, he must have used a sticking charm on her hands and knees. She found that she could only move her head, as the rest of her body was stuck to the stone floor. She started to make mewling sounds, which worked their way from her chest and up and out through her mouth, not recognising them as her own.

Lucius watched as the panic took hold of her. He smiled to himself. This was the strongest reaction he had seen from his slave since the first wonderful couple of days when he had first brought her here. He felt like a god, and on one hand he actually was, a god who had the power to squash her like a bug. He was glorifying in her rising panic, it was heady, and he closed his eyes momentarily and took in a deep breath through his nose, puffing out his chest.

I am a god, he reflected to himself before he slowly opened his eyes and uncorked the vial. It made a 'popping' sound as it came loose and the Mudblood froze.

As he tapped his wand harshly on her head, she felt a sinister magic sweep over her. She was not sure what spell he had used, though she knew it was Dark magic as she felt it course through her body and settle into her bones. She tried to shake it off, but couldn't even do that as the sticking charm was still in place, binding her to the freezing stone beneath her. She felt vulnerable with her arse up in the air, pointed towards the beast.

Shaking her head, she wondered whether he had received new orders to finally do away with her; she thought it quite fitting that he'd use this abomination to do his dirty work.

She felt a trickle, warm, and thick like honey, run down her bum and in-between her crevice. Her mind unexpectedly went blank. All outside stimuli shut off, she could feel nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing, see nothing. There was an empty void where her senses used to reside and she felt hollow, gouged out, numb.

Lucius placed the cork back into the vial as he put it back into his cloak pocket. Satisfied that his Mudblood slave was indeed unsettled by her current predicament, he turned sharply on his heel, facing the untamed beast once more.

Raising his wand at the creature, he unlocked the chain that was fastened around its neck with a flick of his wand. The fetter that was previously holding the creature under an enchantment fell with a loud clack to the floor. He felt her tense up behind him as she snapped out of the self-induced lack of awareness she had been in. He grinned like a madman to himself as he spun around and made his way over to the familiar chair conjured by the right hand side of the door as his chosen prime seating for this exhibition.

The Moon Dog stood still; it had yet to move a muscle as it sniffed at the air, making snuffling noises. Lucius took his seat and watched in apparent glee. This was sure to be a show, one he wouldn't forget for some time. His cock was straining from within his now too-tight pants; however, he ignored it and watched in fascination as the beast caught sight of its prey.

Hermione froze and her heart stopped beating as she felt the beast's breath on her exposed arse, and in the next instant she felt it run its tongue from the top of her vagina all the way up her bum. It inhaled, its tongue twisting inside her hole. The beast sniffed some more, the small current of air on her exposed backside causing goose bumps to appear on her arms and legs. A dribble of the dog's copious saliva dangled down to the floor from her cunt. The fiend was licking her with eagerness now, and she cringed inwardly at the drooling mess it was leaving.

She was brought back to earth by a grunt. Her cheeks flaming crimson from her own mortification, she lifted her head and turned it ever so slowly to the right where she saw her captor leaning forward in his chair, his eyes riveted to whatever was going on behind her, an impression of madness within those pale grey eyes. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut as she hung her head.

The hound was licking and sniffing with fever now, getting more and more worked up as the seconds ticked by.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely recognisable to her own ears, it was so choked with tears that she had to wonder when she had begun to cry. She thought it was impossible to cry anymore, but she dismissed that thought as she shook her head from side to side and attempted to break the spell placed upon her.

"No," she repeated, stronger this time.

It was no use; she felt the dog scramble up to mount her, its awkward body finding its way on top of her, and she felt as if she would surely break in two with the immense weight of the creature. It continued its ascent, digging its claws into her side as it tried to find somewhere to hold on to its mate, finally finding purchase on her hips.

It was pure agony between the combined weight of the beast and its long claws dragging down her side, but it was nothing as it finally found its mark, and its long claws settled at her hips and it started to rut against her with all of its might.

She screamed out, shaking her head from side to side once more, trying to dissuade the dog from taking her. It was no use; she felt the long fangs of the beast sink into her fleshy shoulder, trying to hold her still, although at best she could only move her head.

She felt the dog's penis searching for her opening. Her insides turned to ice and her voice turned hoarse as she screeched out at the unwanted invasion, and she felt herself tear from the large knot at the end of the dog's penis. This was immoral, everything about this situation was wrong.

The Moon Dog released her shoulder as he made one final thrust, binding with her as she felt him swell up inside her. The creature gave out a piercing howl of triumph as it salivated all over her back.

She felt herself go numb, even though her whole body shook as it fought off going into shock. She turned her head, eyes closed, still whimpering, as she looked at the spot where the creature had bitten into her shoulder. It was agony and she thought about the lesson with Professor Snape, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, about werewolves. If so much as one drop of saliva made its way into the blood stream, the person affected would be doomed to becoming a werewolf too.

She had to know, so she opened her eyes to see the damage the beast had done. She gasped in shock, even as she blinked back the tears that were currently streaming down her face and making a pool of clear liquid on the grimy stones in front of her hands. There was nothing there apart from the excruciating pain in her shoulder, neither a scratch nor the gaping wound that she had imagined would be there not ten seconds ago.

She tuned out the pain that was encompassing her body as she quickly turned her head around to look at the demon in the chair to her right, a questioning look in her eyes. He smirked at her as he undid his trousers and pushed them down his legs, slowly exposing his rigid member to the chilly dungeon air.

She quickly turned her head away and looked at the pool of her tears once more. The light from the sconces was flickering off the puddle, and she watched the play of the lights, tuning out all of the pain, hurt and turmoil within her.

She felt, rather than saw, the creature remove its body weight from her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The dog was far from done, as they were still connected together in the most intimate way.

The beast threw its back leg over her so that they were bum to bum, continuing to pump its seed inside her, its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth and a look of pure bliss on its repugnant features.

Her examination of the pool was broken when she heard grunting to her right; she wanted to ignore it, but in a reflex action, her head snapped up once more to look at her captor.

Lucius was fisting his cock in one hand, his wand beating out a rhythm in his other hand against his thigh. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, as he pumped one last time and gave an almighty shout as his semen sprayed the front of his fine robes. His breathing laboured, he opened his eyes as a devious smirk crossed his face.

Hermione was hypnotised by the smile; it was not as though she had not seen him in the throes of orgasm before; it was the thought that there were men, men like him, out there that got off on the suffering and degradation of others.

Their eyes were locked. Hers were wide with untold horror, and his were calculating, predatory, filled with lust and the thrill of debasing another human being.

The spell that held her eyes captive with his own was broken when the alarms echoed around the small space surrounding them. Hermione was brought back to earth by the pain of the monster still inside her and the marks that he had left on her body, invisible to all except her.

Lucius jumped to his feet, casting a cleansing charm quickly and doing up his trousers efficiently with he other hand. He paced hastily to the door, throwing it open before speaking to her.

"Have fun, Mudblood," he spat out maliciously, not even bothering to face her as he slammed the door shut.

The only sounds were those of his retreating steps, the heavy panting of the creature at her rear, and the small whining noises that escaped her throat.

***

Lucius stomped his way down to the dungeons the next morning. He knew he was being childish, but he didn't care. It was his mansion, his home, and he thought if he couldn't be self-indulgent in his own residence, where could he be?

He hadn't been able to come back down to the dungeons last night, as Narcissa and Draco had come home early, hence the alarms, and he had to play the doting husband as Narcissa showed off all of her purchases.

He only hoped that the beast hadn't been too rough on the Mudblood, not that the enchantments on her cell would allow this, but still he had a feeling of impending disaster as he pushed aside the cell door.

The first thing he noticed was the fact that the sconces didn't light up, and he pulled his wand from the cane that housed it, dropping the housing clumsily to the ground, and flicked the wand up, murmuring Lumos.

He stood, momentarily immobilised, and glanced around in horror. The faint light that his wand gave off wasn't enough to encompass the entire cell, but his heart skipped a beat as he took in the scene before his eyes.

It was as though a whirlwind had been through the cell. The table was smashed, lying in splinters, no longer recognisable. The cot was up-ended, the flimsy mattress was in pieces, and bits of straw were scattered around the floor in every direction. The sconces were no longer attached to the wall and lay at the other end of the room.

Frantic now, he whirled around, searching for any signs of life. His eyes fell on the Moon Dog, its lifeless body lying in the corner of the room. Stepping into the cell, he walked over to the beast and kicked it once with his boot. It made no movement, and he perceived the pool of congealed blood in which it was lying. Sneering, he turned away from the creature and continued his search of the small cell for the Mudblood.

He swung his wand arm around franticly as he approach the cot, which was lying upright, and he saw a small figure huddled in the foetal position between the wall and the cot. Hastily approaching the other side of the room, he reached down to yank the Mudblood up, only to come in contact with a solid force field surrounding her entire body.

The field didn't harm him, although he could not get through it to reach his slave, no matter how hard he forced his hand against it. Bringing up his wand to lie an inch from the sphere, he tapped it once. His wand bounced back at him. Next, he conjured up some floating candles to light the cell as he brought his wand up and flicked it once, enunciating Finite Incantatem; nothing happened.

Growling low in his throat, his teeth bared, he ripped the cot from the wall and threw it across the room. Her body, huddled in the corner of the room that had previously been covered up by the frame of the cot, lit up as he levitated the candles to float closer to her. He could see that she was breathing; she seemed to be in some kind of enchanted sleep, and he got down on his knees, his wand still firmly held in his hand, and looked at her peaceful face.

Spells of any kind were not allowed to work in his personal dungeons, and especially not by the prisoners. He, of course, could perform magic, but had seen to it personally that the Mudblood could not do wandless magic of any kind. Lucius held her wand upstairs encased in the most powerful of Dark magic he knew of. So why was it that she was still able to perform potent enchantments?

Unless, he thought grimly to himself, she had indeed evoked the most ancient of magic charms unconsciously, that of the protection spell. Extraordinary. He threw a simple stinging hex at the sphere that was surrounding his slave and quickly jumped to the side to avoid the rebounded hex.

Walking back to the field, he toed it with his foot. It seemed as if nothing could get into the blasted sphere.

Lucius felt his anger reaching boiling point, and he spun on his heel, firing off an Avada Kedavra at the Moon Dog. He saw the bolt of green leave his wand and hit its mark. It felt satisfying although he knew that the creature was already dead.

Macnair is going to be pissed, he thought ruefully before turning around again and facing his current quandary.

Hexes, curses, spell after spell: he threw them all at the orb, but nothing seemed to penetrate it. Hair dishevelled, his eyes filled with rage, he sat down on a conjured chair and let his breathing become even as he contemplated his next move.

As he summoned his wand housing and neatly tucked away his wand, a cold chill laced its way down his spine at the thought of what he would have to do next. There was nothing else for it, he would have to go to the Dark Lord and explain what had happened. He shivered as he stood and vanished the chair.

"Elf," Lucius bellowed.

A diminutive popping noise was heard beside him, and he whirled around to face the small creature.

"I want this mess cleaned up," he said to the trembling elf before him. Ears hung low, eyes downcast, it nodded its head in the affirmative. It knew better than to speak to back to its Master.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Lucius was swiftly losing what little patience he had as he lifted his cane and brought it down on the elf's head with a sickening crunch.

The creature fell to its knees from the blow, but did not cry out in pain. Straightening up, it went to work immediately, snapping its fingers, and the Moon Dog disappeared.

Lucius left his dungeons, making his way to the Entrance Hall. He knew the elf would do a first-rate job, but he was dreading going to his Lord with this quandary. He had been placed in charge of the Mudblood, an incredibly significant undertaking for him. No one else was to find out about her, and so far he had thought he was performing an impressive job.

His face like thunder, covering the trepidation he felt inside, he dropped the wards surrounding his home and Disapparated to the Dark Lord's stronghold.

***

Sitting in his own private study scrutinising books on the Dark Arts, Voldemort knew he would not be disturbed here, not if his servants wished to retain their limbs. His devoted familiar, Nagini, was curled up next to his chair in front of the fire.

It was not quite time for lunch, and the Dark Lord was catching up on his reading. Overthrowing the wizarding government wasn't an easy task, so he preferred to come to his sanctuary for a few hours a day to unwind and scheme.

His reading was cut short as his inner refuge was disturbed, the door opening with a loud squeak and a tousled Lucius Malfoy hurtling into the room. Voldemort took in his most trusted servant's appearance as he threw himself at his feet and quickly kissed the hem of his robes before rising.

"Forgive me, my Lord," Lucius said, his voice coming out much stronger then he felt.

"Whatever it is, Lucius, it had better be good." Not wanting to fritter away any more of his time or tolerance, he whispered threateningly, not even bothering to raise his wand, "Legilimens."

Before Lucius could answer, the Dark Lord was in his mind and siphoning through his thoughts with ease, though he was not inconveniencing himself by being gentle.

Lucius staggered as Voldemort abruptly left his mind. He looked back at his Lord's face and saw a hideous twisting of his features.

"You didn't think to place any wards?" Voldemort spoke softly, with deadly precision, though his voice suggested the guarantee of retribution that was yet to be dealt out.

"Yes, my Lord, I did, though it seems as if the Mudblood has overcome them somehow," Lucius responded, precariously. Lucius knew he was condemned to the Cruciatus for his indiscretion.

"I give you this lone task, Lucius, and even with that you fail me."

Voldemort stood effortlessly, what passed for a smile contorting his facial appearance. Lucius took a step back cautiously, fearing that his life was indeed over. Instead, the Dark Lord clapped his hands together once, and the blond-haired wizard watched in astonishment as a metal collar appeared in his open hand.

Handing it to Lucius, who turned it over in his hands with interest, Voldemort hissed with irritation, "Now take me to the Mudblood, Lucius, before you suffer the consequences of making me wait."

Lucius didn't need to be told twice.

***

Lucius stood in the main foyer of his mansion, collar in hand, with his Lord beside him. He quickly marched to the hidden door that lead down to his personal dungeons.

The eeriness of the situation slowly filled Lucius with dread as he descended the stone steps and the sconces along the narrow corridor flared to life.

Lucius entered the cell first, checking to see that the elf had done his bidding. Everything seemed to be in order, and the cell was back to its original state.

Voldemort's magnificent presence filled the small dungeon cell as Lucius took a step to the right, just over the threshold, towards the Mudblood. His Lord took quick stock of what was the Mudblood's place of residence until his eyes fell on the foul creature huddled in the corner.

Lucius watched as his Lord approached his slave; she was surrounded by a sphere encompassing her entire body. It appeared the elf had taken his words to heart, as it had tried to place the bed back into its original position. It appeared, however, that the creature had been unable to move the Mudblood. He looked in fascination at the sphere that covered her body, now glowing a bright blue colour. He wondered to himself silently what the elf had done to get any kind of reaction out of the orb, as he had tried every spell and still it remained an invisible circumference.

The Mudblood appeared to be in a deep sleep, and Lucius once more cursed himself for not being able to break the enchantment that she had obviously placed upon her own body.

He shook his head slightly as his Master approached his slave.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord hissed, and he found himself striding up to his Master's side in a few steps.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius replied.

"The collar." Voldemort held out his hand as Lucius fumbled slightly with the heavy piece of metal in his hands and placed it in his Lord's outstretched hand.

He watched in fascination as his Lord waved his hand over the sleeping Mudblood and the barrier vanished. He looked down to see her shiver faintly as the Dark Lord reached down and picked her up by the throat whilst holding the metal collar in his other hand.

"Mudblood," he murmured as he brought her up to face him, his hand still firmly around her throat.

Hermione's eyes opened from the most wonderful dream to see herself staring into the face of Voldemort. She gave a tiny squeak as she felt his hand squeeze more forcefully around her throat. She couldn't breathe. Her feet were dangling from the floor, and she was barely able to take some of the pressure off her throat by standing on tiptoe.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed to the creature before him. She was going to play a large part in this war whether she wanted to or not. He turned her head to and fro as though assessing a purchase.

Abruptly, he relinquished his hold on her and she dropped to the floor like a sack of flobberworms; she dared not look up into the faces of the madman and her tormentor.

"Rise, Mudblood."

She heard the unmistakable hiss of Voldemort's voice, and she felt her body complying, in spite of her wish to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

She dared not look into his face as she rose, her head still bowed.

Is this the end? she reflected grimly to herself. Please let it be quick. And in those few seconds, as she ascended to her feet, she saw her brief life flash before her eyes.

***

A/N: Sorry for leaving you all on such a cliff hanger, but I thought that at 11 pages it was getting a bit too long. Rest assured though, I am feverishly typing away at the next chapter of this story. Any comments, about this chapter, would be welcomed. Please no flames. Remember, if you can't say anything nice, say nothing at all.

To my wonderful beta's AmyLouise and deathofme, thank you so very much for finding my mistakes and making my writing flow better. Love and hugs to you both. I seriously don't know what I would do without the two of you.