NOVEL WEB Ch 74 – Hard Caning! ~Heavy NSFW~
Warning - Lucifer, the Devil is Billions of years old.
Hermione with multiple personalities, her character's real age during sexual intercourse is 18+
(Hermione - Blessed by Amenadiel, time works differently for her, she has already surpassed age of 18+)
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Lucifer tapped the cane against her cheeks a couple times, marking where he wanted the stroke to land.
A soft whoosh cut through the air, and she heard and felt the crack of impact in the same instant.
It took another second, but then the pain bloomed across her cheeks in a hot line. “Ow. One!”
Tapping again. She gritted her teeth and pressed her palms harder against the leather seat, the sting still growing.
Swish-crack.
“Ow! Two!”
Tap. Tap. Tap. Swish-crack.
Her right knee buckled.
A thousand bees were stinging lines across her backside.
“Three!” Hermione gasped, stamping her foot to loosen the pain.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap. Swish-crack.
She couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed down her face as the pain surfaced. “Four!”
“Keep your legs straight,” Lucifer ordered her in a no game voice.
Each blow made her knees bend deeper; she was practically squatting.
Reluctantly, Hermione straightened her legs, praying that he’d finished.
The tapping resumed, and she started crying harder, convinced it would never end.
Swish-crack.
A shout of pain tore from her lips. “Five!”
Lucifer marked a spot lower, just under her bum where her thighs started. “Brace yourself.”
No tapping, just the whoosh of the cane cutting the air and then unbearable stinging heat.
She knelt to the floor in fresh tears, bawling against the seat.
“Back into position, Granger,” he said in a cold, detached drawl.
With painful slowness, certain she must be bleeding, stood back up, struggling to catch her breath.
“We’ll have to repeat that one since you didn’t count.”
“bwaahh!” Hermione sobbed harder, devastated by the news.
“What a pity. It would have been the last.”
She closed her eyes. 'Just one more Hermione, you can do it...'
Then, sniffed her nose, trying to empty her whimpers.
“Arch your back.”
Hermione grimaced, knowing it would expose her sex and bring it closer to the sting of the cane.
Sticking out her bum, she felt him marking where the next lick would land.
Directly below the last.
The cane sliced through the air, sharply connecting with her upper thighs.
Hermione wailed, ”Six!” before dissolving into tears.
Lucifer put his fingers to her striped cheek, checking the marks. No skin had broken.
He drew his fingertips over the sizzling tram lines, and she recoiled.
I don’t blame you, he sympathized.
This will be a delicate transition.
For the first time that night, he spoke softly. “Stand up, Hermione. Your punishment is over.”
She stood carefully, her bum throbbing and burning.
Looking at him was out of the question.
Hermione Granger felt angry and hurt, confused and (frighteningly) even more turned on.
It was even more confusing when Lucifer sat in the chair and pulled her down to straddle his lap.
Her bum rested between his spread knees, and he caressed her neck until she laid her head on his shoulder.
His hand stroked her back, urging her to calm down.
Hermione was now lost. 'How could he just go from fury to comfort in the blink of an eye?'
Her bum felt lacerated; it consumed every ounce of her attention.
Sobbing into his neck, she tried to process the conflicting sensations battling in her body.
Lucifer rubbed her back, soothing her. She was new to such things, and he wasn’t completely heartless.
She’d taken the cane well for her first encounter.
If he wanted her to keep coming back for more, he had to dial back the venom.
“It’s all right,” he murmured in her ear, breath slightly tickling her “It’s over now. You did very well.”
One hand went to her bum, and he drew his fingertips over the fiery lines. “So beautiful,” he whispered.
Unsure whether he meant the marks or her, and not really caring, Hermione let out a ragged sigh along with the remaining tension in her body.
The pain continued to grow, but it slowly changed.
She felt different somehow. Cleansed.
It was pleasant but disconcerting.
One minute she’d been scared to death, in intense agony, and the next, she was drinking up his rumbled praises like wine.
The pain seemed to have transformed her. Trial by fire.
Her body melted into him, and Lucifer placed his lips beside her temple. “Are you all right?”
“I think so, sir,” she said with a sniffle.
Now that the crying had stopped, her voice sounded deep and peaceful, almost lethargic.
A testament to her house, she’d taken the pain heroically.
“Your backside looks lovely. Would you like to see?”
Her head lifted, and she looked at him, her brow pinched in confusion.
Lucifer summoned his antique full-length mirror from the trunk and angled it behind her.
He nodded toward the mirror, “Look at yourself...”
Turning her head, Hermione gasped at the picture they presented. Her skirt was still tucked in her waistband, so she could see the dark red lines crisscrossing her skin.
It was lovely—her arse transformed into a work of art.
Reaching back, she watched herself trace over the tracks he’d made, marking her as his.
Lucifer met her dazed gaze in the mirror. “Tell me how you did this week,” he murmured, starting to unbutton her top. “Any interesting dreams?”
Hermione reluctantly turned away from the image of herself straddling her boyfriend.
So bloody sexy.
“What? Oh, yes. Torturous actually. You kept telling me to wake up before I finished.”
Lucifer snickered. “And what were we doing that got you so close?” Pushing her blouse down her arms, he pulled it from her and tossed it aside.
Her heart began to race.
Their room was drafty, and her nipples tightened behind her bra, straining the material. “Um . . . different things.”
His fingers lightly trailed down the center of her chest. “What left you the wettest?”
Oh God! Her skin felt oversensitive, almost unreal.
Hermione blushed but did her best to answer him. “You were . . . um . . . taking me from behind and . . . your fingers were . . . um . . . in my . . . other hole, and you were . . . saying things.”
His smirk grew to an obscene grin as she spoke.
Broadening her vocabulary would be next on the agenda.
Lucifer wanted to hear filthy words purring from those twitching lips. “Saying what kinds of things?”
Hermione shrugged, looking perplexed. “I can’t remember.” For all she knew he’d been reciting a grocery list; the outcome remained the same.
He gave her a dubious look, and she stared him defiantly in the eye. “Honest.”
He could see she was telling the truth.
Thumbs lazily circling her nipples, Lucifer continued the questioning, “Does it embarrass you to say cock, Hermione?”
It did not escape her notice that he’d used her name in a much softer tone compared to usual, “Sort of,” she admitted. “I’m just not used to it.”
“We’ll work on that.” He pinched her pebbled peaks through her bra.
Her nipples seemed to have a direct line to her sex, and her hips jerked closer.
Reaching behind her, Lucifer unhooked her bra then leaned back, watching it fall down her arms, baring her breasts.
Pulling it off and tossing it over with her shirt, he caught her arms and held them to her side so she couldn’t cover herself.
She saw his warning look and relaxed, not fighting the exposure.
Nodding in satisfaction, he slid his hands under the growing rounded flesh, running his fingers along the line left by her bra, reveling in her soft warmth.
When Lucifer went back to her nipples, she hummed a quiet note of relief and arched into his hands.
Pinching and pulling at the tips, he slowly worked her into a panting frenzy, not stopping until she was grinding fitfully in his lap. “Would you like to come now?”
She met his eyes and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Pinching her nipples hard, he shook his head. “No. Try again. Beg me for it and use the word pussy.”
Her face burned, but hearing him say it first made things a bit easier.
She just had to say it back.
Determined to prove her bravery, Hermione closed her eyes and whispered, “My pussy’s so wet, sir. Please make me come.”
“Excellent,” he purred.
Lucifer reached between their bodies and opened his trousers.
After freeing his cock, he sank his fingers into her hips and pulled her forward.
Her slit was drenched; there was no resistance or drag as she slid against the underside of his prick.
The blistering heat of her body scorched him.
He made no attempt to enter her, but rocked his hips to give her the friction she craved.
Hermione’s swollen nub throbbed joyfully as she pressed against him.
She arched her back to keep her clit in contact with his unyielding length.
Rocking her hips faster, she felt the tension of 7 long days straining to break free.
Her body seemed primed to take off, and the rigid heat of him slipping between her thighs felt sublime.
She was a woman possessed.
Lucifer’s fingers tightened, trying to keep her movements under control.
The restraint only added to her fervor.
If he hadn’t just indulged in a preemptive wank before her arrival, he would have lost it.
Her frantic whispers of “please” were maddening.
He knew there was only one way to end that particular torture. (And the sooner the better.)
Touching his lips to her ear, he growled, “I want to watch you come all over my cock.”
The feel of his words vibrating through her placed the final piece in her puzzle.
Her breathy chants of “please” turned to “yes."
Hermione gasped, riding him past the finish line, her clit euphoric in its celebration.
Her inner muscles squeezed and seized, a heady throb of relief spreading through her pelvis out into her body.
Gradually, her movements slowed, and she slumped against his shoulder.
His fingers ached as he released her hips.
'That’s going to leave a bruise.'
He massaged the red marks left by her death grip.
Determined wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the breathless witch in his lap.
'Unrelenting, perhaps. Or maybe ruthless.'
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