Learning Her Ropes
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
29,667
Reviews:
43
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
29,667
Reviews:
43
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Collared Confessional
TITLE: Learning Her Ropes
CHAPTER: Three – Collared Confessional
AUTHOR: Zephyr
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: D/Hr
SUMMARY: Draco has been acting strangely and Hermione wants to find out why but she ends up getting more than she bargained for.
CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: voyeurism, twincest (mentioned), threesome (mentioned), oral, light bondage, mention of abuse and rape
A/N: Thank you to GrrArrg and Gryfforin for helping me get my head on straight for this chapter. Thank you to my lovely betas. Sorry for the lag on this chapter but my muse was in Vegas with GrrArrg’s then she spent a week and a half in flannel pajamas, so very not conducive to writing smut.
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
Last time:
He buried his hands in her hair when she took him fully in her mouth and let her use her mouth to make love to him. He couldn’t hold back any longer and thrust deeply into the wet cavern of her mouth over and over until he finally spilled his seed. He watched with a silly curl of male satisfaction as she looked into his eyes and swallowed.
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
Hermione gave Draco a satisfied little grin as she looked up at him and licked her lips. He climbed up on the bed next to her and then pulled her down into his embrace. She was content to just lie there in the big bed, cuddled in Draco’s arms but her mind was running a mile a minute. She was of two minds; each was battling tooth and nail for the upper hand.
Ever since he first accosted her in the Three Broomsticks, the Slytherin fascinated Hermione more and more as the years went on. Seven years of fleeting encounters where his kisses stole the breath from her body and her common sense from her mind, then he would disappear once more. She didn’t understand why he did this and it was driving her mad. Ten months ago Hermione had finally confided in Harry about Draco Malfoy’s odd behavior.
Harry Potter was the one person she knew that truly understood the former Slytherin in any capacity. Three years ago, Harry was on the verge of suicide. Voldemort’s demise never brought him any peace. It brought more anguish with theguilt he felt over not being able to save the friends that were lost in the battle, most notably, Ron. Ron Weasley heroically protected Harry’s back while he dueled with Voldemort and had caught a killing curse meant for Harry.
Harry Potter suffered the guilt of the survivors.
Then, almost suddenly, Harry was better, happier, letting himself out of the gilded prison he made for himself at Grimmauld Place and later, trying out for the Chudley Cannons for a reserve seeker position then quickly rising to starting Seeker six months later. It came as no surprise that the Cannon’s dismal record isn’t so dismal anymore.
Hermione immediately noticed the change in her best friend and confronted him about his sudden personality shift. It took some doing but one night, Harry finally broke down a little and explained his new found euphoria.
“Have you ever felt like you just needed to release the pain inside, Hermione?” Harry looked at her with such anguish in his eyes; she knew that he truly wanted for her to understand what he was feeling. “I found some one who can release that pain for me. After I meet with him I feel lighter, more balanced, more at peace.”
“Who is he, Harry? Your lover?” Hermione asked softly
Harry laughed softly. “No, Hermione. He’s not my lover. I’m not sure exactly how to describe my relationship with him.”
“Try, Harry.” Hermione laid her hand over Harry’s across the table in the noisy Leakey Cauldron.
“He found me in the gutter one night outside Tom Catter’s in Knockturn Alley. I can’t say what possessed me to go there but I almost died that night. If he hadn’t found me—
“I was very nearly naked, bleeding and bruised. I was raped several times that night, four broken ribs and every bone in my right hand was broken.” His eyes closed at the memories of the abuse he had walked into that night. “He found me and healed me. Slowly, he mended my wand hand, my ribs and every other place I hurt. It took two days before I was sensible enough for him to talk to, let alone knock some sense into me.
“He told me that if I wanted to kill myself that there were quicker ways to do it and there were countless people out there only too happy for the chance to execute me. I didn’t want to die but I had to find a release for the pain inside me. I had taken to abusing my self through others; I was just slowly killing myself. He understood that, Hermione. He also enlightened me. He explained to me that there were non-fatal ways to purge myself of my pain. He made it very clear that in my current state I couldn’t be trusted on my own, and he was right. I didn’t know when to stop, sometimes I still don’t.
“Do you know what sadomasochism is Hermione?”
“Vaguely, the need or desire of pain in a sexual encounter.”
With a nod Harry continued his story, “He is a professional dominant, Hermione. I trust him not to let it get out of hand. He will whip me, beat me, purge me of my emotional pain but he protects me at the same time, from my own self-abuse and from the predators that would be only too happy to have the famous Harry Potter at their mercy. Every session causes me temporary physical pain but it is enough to feel clean again, whole again. I trust him with my life every time we meet, Hermione. He is the one person, besides you, that I know who won’t judge. He gives me what I need, he helps me stay sane.”
Harry looked down into his glass of firewhiskey waiting for Hermione’s reaction to his confession. On her part, she had sat silently for a few moments and digested his story. Tears welled in her eyes at the depths of his sadness but she understood the need for that release. He could have gone to drugs or alcohol to numb his pain and she was grateful he hadn’t. Though he could be just as addicted to pain as he could have been to any other drug.
“Harry,” she said softly, her throat was tight with unshed tears. She slid off the bench and moved to his side of the scarred table, she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. When she pulled away finally, she had to know, “Who is it Harry? Please tell me, you know that I won’t judge you either.”
She was shocked when, just above a whisper, he uttered the last name she ever expected. “Draco Malfoy.”
That is when her fascination with the former Slytherin and war hero slipped into obsession. She began researching everything she could about sadomasochistic relationships, the BDSM scene in the wizarding world, what muggle psychiatry and psychology thoughts were on the behavior. The most pertinent information she found was from psychologists involved in the scene. The work of Gloria Brame was especially helpful to her in understanding Harry and by association Draco. It didn’t take much for her to realize that Harry was still in danger of doing himself harm but Hermione was slowly wearing him down. Hopefully soon she’d get him into a psychologist. She recently heard of a muggleborn witch who was trained as both a mediwitch and a psychologist, just what the doctor ordered, so to speak.
It was only a year ago that Hermione finally went to Harry and sought his opinion on the Slytherin who’s sole mission in life appeared to be driving her further toward madness as each year passed and he repeated his ‘snog and dash’ act.
“So?” Hermione asked desperately.
“What?” Harry returned with a sparkle of mirth in his green eyes. “So, he’s stolen a few kisses from you. You enjoyed them. What’s the problem?”
“What’s the problem? Harry, every year for six years, one kiss. A kiss that melts my brain into a puddle of girly-goo then, he runs away. Why just one? Why run away? Why not just come out and tell me how he feels? Why is he playing these games?” Hermione grew more hysterical with every passing question. She grabbed on to Harry’s robes from across the table and very nearly pulled him over it.
He gently removed her hands from his robes and folded her hands into his as he sat down again. “Hermione, think about it. He’s Draco Malfoy, the prat who tormented you for seven long years at Hogwarts. Would you really believe that he had suddenly fallen for you at the end of seventh year?” His eyes searched hers and he grinned triumphantly. “See, love, he is using what he knows will get your attention; Slytherin cunning, unending patience and Malfoy sex-appeal.”
Hermione sighed and put her head into her hands. “What am I going to do, Harry? I am tired of standing on tenterhooks every year, wondering when he is going to pop back into my life to kiss me senseless and then scuttle away, again.”
“Confront him next time. You are the smartest witch of our age, follow him and confront him.” Harry gave her a sly little grin. “Who knows? You just might like what you find.”
So here she was, following Harry’s sage advice and still clueless. Draco was already showing her things about herself that she had only flirted with in fantasies. She knew from her research for Harry that he hadn’t even broached anything considered hardcore yet. She appreciated that he was moving so slowly, but now he had wet her appetite. She wanted more.
Draco’s face burrowing into her hair brought her back to the present.
“Draco, will you show me more? You promised me a tour, you know.” Hermione hoped that she didn’t sounded as eager out loud as she had inside her head.
Draco grumbled something into her hair and he pulled her closer to him, spooning her body even more closely to his. Hermione giggled softly and wiggled her bum against him, enjoying his purr of appreciation for her actions. Hermione smirked then gave Draco one last arse wiggle before sliding out of his arms.
“Draco,” Hermione slid to the edge of the bed and put her feet on the deep plush carpet, “if you’re tired I suppose I can take a look around on my own or possibly find someone willing to show me around.”
“I don’t think so, wench,” Draco growled as he tried to grab Hermione as she slid off the bed. With a giggle she successfully evaded his grasp.
Hermione laughed as she darted across the room, knowing full well that he would catch her in a moment. Her heart raced as he caught one of her hands and spun her around. She opened her lips willingly to his when his mouth came crashing to hers in a wet battle for supremacy. Draco pulled away and looked into her eyes.
“Promise me, Hermione,” his eyes bored into hers with an intensity she had never seen before, “promise that you won’t go walking through the club without me.”
Hermione didn’t even consider arguing but she had to know a reason why he wouldn’t want her alone in what was his domain.
As if he anticipated her questions, he immediately went on to explain. “Too many of the members here would gladly flout the rules to get a taste of you. In some circles you are still a great prize, Hermione and any of the former Death Eater’s would dearly love to have you at their mercy. I want your introduction into this life to be pleasant and safe, so please promise me you won’t go wandering alone yet.”
The sincerity and desperation in his voice frightened her a little, but she was touched by his deep concern for her. “All right, Draco. I promise but if I’m seeing you wouldn’t that protect me?”
Draco shook his head. “Until you and I have a formal contract you are still considered anyone’s meat. And consent to some in this place, is merely acknowledging their greeting. I can’t stress it enough. You mean too much.”
Hermione reached out to him when he turned his back after his admission. He stiffened when her hand fell on his arm but with a little gentle pressure she was able to turn him around to face her. Hermione stretched up and laid a simple kiss on his lips. “That means more to me than anything.”
Draco smiled down at her and something crossed his face like he had come to a decision about something. Hermione admired his form as he crossed the room and opened a box on top of one of the dressers. He stood there for some minutes as if contemplating something but his hand finally dipped inside and Hermione saw a flash of silver before he turned back to her.
“Hermione, I’d like to give you something.” In his hands was an open circle of heavy silver finely tooled with what looked like scales, on one end of the circle was a dragon’s head, mouth open ferociously, and bright emerald eyes flashing. “This will offer a little protection for you here. It is a protective collar, while we are not bound as Master and slave, this collar does signify that you are under my protection and that any who would do you harm will have to answer to me. Will you accept this collar Hermione, as a sign of my respect and honor?”
“Yes, Draco, I’ll accept your collar.” With her words the dragon came to life, when Draco placed his hands closer to her skin the dragon slithered onto her shoulder then twisted itself around her neck and settled its head and tail on her collarbone.
“It suits you Hermione,” Draco smirked, then his smile turned softer, almost wistful, as his hand lifted from his side and he stroked the cool metal dragon.
Hermione shivered under his touch and the heady emotion beneath his gaze.
“Now about that tour?”
“Demanding wench.”
Draco took her hand and led her through the rabbit warren like building with its labyrinth of hallways and corridors lined with door after door, each leading to yet another room to satisfy the appetite of the most aberrant of deviants.
“Several of the rooms have observation lounges,” explained Draco when they came to several sets of doors placed side-by-side. “A few of the members enjoy the idea that at anytime someone could enter the lounge to scrutinize their every move, their every grimace, the rise and fall of their pleasure. Exhibitionism can be quite addicting, or so I have been told.”
Hermione couldn’t help but quip, “Are you telling me the ‘Casanova’ Malfoy does not use the observation rooms?”
“No, I don’t,” he countered evenly, “many of my clients don’t wish for all and sundry to see what lengths they will go through for their release.”
“You really aren’t the same Malfoy that I knew back at Hogwarts, are you?”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” he replied with a devilish grin. “What about you, Hermione?”
“What about me, what?” Hermione asked warily.
“Do you care to delve into the world of an exhibitionist?” Draco couldn’t contain his mirth at the look of intrigued horror that crossed over her face.
“You prat,” Hermione scowled up at the blond.
“I was kidding, love. But the look on your face was a sight to behold.” Draco wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her forehead mollifying her bruised ego somewhat. “Seriously though, would you like to see what a session entails? Some good friends are to visit today and they always take an observation room.”
“They wouldn’t mind?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask.
“Of course they wouldn’t. Come on, live a little, Granger.” Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her a little ways down the corridor and led her through a scarlet door. After locking the door behind him, he shrugged, “We wouldn’t want anyone joining us do we?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
Hermione was tongue-tied and just shook her head in the negative. Draco pulled her down on the velvet-covered chaise beside him. They didn’t have to wait long for the lights in the next room to flick on, illuminating an elaborate boudoir. The room was done in shades of black, red, and steel.
Hermione gasped in shock when one of the Weasley twins came into her line of sight. She turned her surprised eyes to Draco. The thought of him being friendly with a Weasley was almost incomprehensible. He just gave her a Gallic shrug and rose to move behind her.
Her eyes were now riveted on the redheaded prankster on the next room lighting candles and setting out the tools of his prurient desires. A few coils of rope came out of a cupboard and out of a dresser came silk scarves. A riding crop and a cane were taken from the closet.
By the time he had the items situated around the room the door opened again admitting the other twin with a bundle tossed over his shoulder. Fred and George Weasley, she was still unsure which was which brother, shared smug grins as the woman was tossed unceremoniously on the bed. When the woman pushed her long blonde hair out of her face Hermione was shocked into unintelligible murmurs. She was looking at the fine boned structure of Alicia Spinnet, her staid and conservative boss.
“I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again,” Hermione said softly.
Despite the shock of seeing her superior, Hermione could feel a hot flush spread over her skin as the twins advanced on the woman seated on the bed and quickly bound her spread eagle across its surface. Quickly they added scarves for a blindfold and a gag.
Hermione unconsciously rubbed at her neck and played with the collar of her robe, idly dipping into the valley between her breasts as she watched Fred and George begin their work on the statuesque blonde’s voluptuous body.
Hermione sighed when she felt Draco’s hands drop onto her shoulders then slid down to her wrists. She didn’t protest when he drew her hands over her head and bound her wrists together with a length of soft black rope. With a tug her arms bent at the elbows and she could feel a gentle tug now and then that told her he was securing the rope to a leg of the chaise.
Hermione blushed at the heat in his eyes when he came around to the front of the chaise once more. He captured her mouth in a hard kiss as he pushed the skirt of the silky nightgown to her waist and arranged her legs just so. Her cheeks felt hot as she thought of how exposed she was. As Draco’s hands roamed her body she soon lost track of trying to follow what the twins were doing to Alicia in the other room. Her world narrowed down to this tiny room and the pinnacles of pleasure that she reached for. The bite of the rope around her wrists played in tandem to his mouth on her core and soon she sighed happily as he slid inside her, pounding so hard the legs of the chaise began to creak. Lying together breathing deeply and happily sated, neither she, nor Draco, noticed when the trio in the next room finished their games and turned out the lights when they left the chamber.
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
For a good definition of Sado-Masochisim try this link:
http://www.webster-dictionary.org/definition/Sadism%20and%20Masochism
And Before i forget.. to ME who left this review:
ME! 2004-11-22 id # 2035092936
Draco malfoy would like to clear up a few things about his characterization \"Leather is chafing and makes strange noises.........Malfoys DO NOT make strange noises!!!!!! thank you.\"
Are you just an idiot or have you never felt the butter softness that is deerhide leather or lambhide. Good butter soft leather is very expensive and of the sort that a Malfoy would want and easily fork over good money for. For an example of the gloves I described take a look at my LJ and the Icon for this story. The gloves there are very tight fitting and wouldn\'t squeek or make strange noises I assure you!
CHAPTER: Three – Collared Confessional
AUTHOR: Zephyr
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: D/Hr
SUMMARY: Draco has been acting strangely and Hermione wants to find out why but she ends up getting more than she bargained for.
CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: voyeurism, twincest (mentioned), threesome (mentioned), oral, light bondage, mention of abuse and rape
A/N: Thank you to GrrArrg and Gryfforin for helping me get my head on straight for this chapter. Thank you to my lovely betas. Sorry for the lag on this chapter but my muse was in Vegas with GrrArrg’s then she spent a week and a half in flannel pajamas, so very not conducive to writing smut.
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
Last time:
He buried his hands in her hair when she took him fully in her mouth and let her use her mouth to make love to him. He couldn’t hold back any longer and thrust deeply into the wet cavern of her mouth over and over until he finally spilled his seed. He watched with a silly curl of male satisfaction as she looked into his eyes and swallowed.
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
Hermione gave Draco a satisfied little grin as she looked up at him and licked her lips. He climbed up on the bed next to her and then pulled her down into his embrace. She was content to just lie there in the big bed, cuddled in Draco’s arms but her mind was running a mile a minute. She was of two minds; each was battling tooth and nail for the upper hand.
Ever since he first accosted her in the Three Broomsticks, the Slytherin fascinated Hermione more and more as the years went on. Seven years of fleeting encounters where his kisses stole the breath from her body and her common sense from her mind, then he would disappear once more. She didn’t understand why he did this and it was driving her mad. Ten months ago Hermione had finally confided in Harry about Draco Malfoy’s odd behavior.
Harry Potter was the one person she knew that truly understood the former Slytherin in any capacity. Three years ago, Harry was on the verge of suicide. Voldemort’s demise never brought him any peace. It brought more anguish with theguilt he felt over not being able to save the friends that were lost in the battle, most notably, Ron. Ron Weasley heroically protected Harry’s back while he dueled with Voldemort and had caught a killing curse meant for Harry.
Harry Potter suffered the guilt of the survivors.
Then, almost suddenly, Harry was better, happier, letting himself out of the gilded prison he made for himself at Grimmauld Place and later, trying out for the Chudley Cannons for a reserve seeker position then quickly rising to starting Seeker six months later. It came as no surprise that the Cannon’s dismal record isn’t so dismal anymore.
Hermione immediately noticed the change in her best friend and confronted him about his sudden personality shift. It took some doing but one night, Harry finally broke down a little and explained his new found euphoria.
“Have you ever felt like you just needed to release the pain inside, Hermione?” Harry looked at her with such anguish in his eyes; she knew that he truly wanted for her to understand what he was feeling. “I found some one who can release that pain for me. After I meet with him I feel lighter, more balanced, more at peace.”
“Who is he, Harry? Your lover?” Hermione asked softly
Harry laughed softly. “No, Hermione. He’s not my lover. I’m not sure exactly how to describe my relationship with him.”
“Try, Harry.” Hermione laid her hand over Harry’s across the table in the noisy Leakey Cauldron.
“He found me in the gutter one night outside Tom Catter’s in Knockturn Alley. I can’t say what possessed me to go there but I almost died that night. If he hadn’t found me—
“I was very nearly naked, bleeding and bruised. I was raped several times that night, four broken ribs and every bone in my right hand was broken.” His eyes closed at the memories of the abuse he had walked into that night. “He found me and healed me. Slowly, he mended my wand hand, my ribs and every other place I hurt. It took two days before I was sensible enough for him to talk to, let alone knock some sense into me.
“He told me that if I wanted to kill myself that there were quicker ways to do it and there were countless people out there only too happy for the chance to execute me. I didn’t want to die but I had to find a release for the pain inside me. I had taken to abusing my self through others; I was just slowly killing myself. He understood that, Hermione. He also enlightened me. He explained to me that there were non-fatal ways to purge myself of my pain. He made it very clear that in my current state I couldn’t be trusted on my own, and he was right. I didn’t know when to stop, sometimes I still don’t.
“Do you know what sadomasochism is Hermione?”
“Vaguely, the need or desire of pain in a sexual encounter.”
With a nod Harry continued his story, “He is a professional dominant, Hermione. I trust him not to let it get out of hand. He will whip me, beat me, purge me of my emotional pain but he protects me at the same time, from my own self-abuse and from the predators that would be only too happy to have the famous Harry Potter at their mercy. Every session causes me temporary physical pain but it is enough to feel clean again, whole again. I trust him with my life every time we meet, Hermione. He is the one person, besides you, that I know who won’t judge. He gives me what I need, he helps me stay sane.”
Harry looked down into his glass of firewhiskey waiting for Hermione’s reaction to his confession. On her part, she had sat silently for a few moments and digested his story. Tears welled in her eyes at the depths of his sadness but she understood the need for that release. He could have gone to drugs or alcohol to numb his pain and she was grateful he hadn’t. Though he could be just as addicted to pain as he could have been to any other drug.
“Harry,” she said softly, her throat was tight with unshed tears. She slid off the bench and moved to his side of the scarred table, she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. When she pulled away finally, she had to know, “Who is it Harry? Please tell me, you know that I won’t judge you either.”
She was shocked when, just above a whisper, he uttered the last name she ever expected. “Draco Malfoy.”
That is when her fascination with the former Slytherin and war hero slipped into obsession. She began researching everything she could about sadomasochistic relationships, the BDSM scene in the wizarding world, what muggle psychiatry and psychology thoughts were on the behavior. The most pertinent information she found was from psychologists involved in the scene. The work of Gloria Brame was especially helpful to her in understanding Harry and by association Draco. It didn’t take much for her to realize that Harry was still in danger of doing himself harm but Hermione was slowly wearing him down. Hopefully soon she’d get him into a psychologist. She recently heard of a muggleborn witch who was trained as both a mediwitch and a psychologist, just what the doctor ordered, so to speak.
It was only a year ago that Hermione finally went to Harry and sought his opinion on the Slytherin who’s sole mission in life appeared to be driving her further toward madness as each year passed and he repeated his ‘snog and dash’ act.
“So?” Hermione asked desperately.
“What?” Harry returned with a sparkle of mirth in his green eyes. “So, he’s stolen a few kisses from you. You enjoyed them. What’s the problem?”
“What’s the problem? Harry, every year for six years, one kiss. A kiss that melts my brain into a puddle of girly-goo then, he runs away. Why just one? Why run away? Why not just come out and tell me how he feels? Why is he playing these games?” Hermione grew more hysterical with every passing question. She grabbed on to Harry’s robes from across the table and very nearly pulled him over it.
He gently removed her hands from his robes and folded her hands into his as he sat down again. “Hermione, think about it. He’s Draco Malfoy, the prat who tormented you for seven long years at Hogwarts. Would you really believe that he had suddenly fallen for you at the end of seventh year?” His eyes searched hers and he grinned triumphantly. “See, love, he is using what he knows will get your attention; Slytherin cunning, unending patience and Malfoy sex-appeal.”
Hermione sighed and put her head into her hands. “What am I going to do, Harry? I am tired of standing on tenterhooks every year, wondering when he is going to pop back into my life to kiss me senseless and then scuttle away, again.”
“Confront him next time. You are the smartest witch of our age, follow him and confront him.” Harry gave her a sly little grin. “Who knows? You just might like what you find.”
So here she was, following Harry’s sage advice and still clueless. Draco was already showing her things about herself that she had only flirted with in fantasies. She knew from her research for Harry that he hadn’t even broached anything considered hardcore yet. She appreciated that he was moving so slowly, but now he had wet her appetite. She wanted more.
Draco’s face burrowing into her hair brought her back to the present.
“Draco, will you show me more? You promised me a tour, you know.” Hermione hoped that she didn’t sounded as eager out loud as she had inside her head.
Draco grumbled something into her hair and he pulled her closer to him, spooning her body even more closely to his. Hermione giggled softly and wiggled her bum against him, enjoying his purr of appreciation for her actions. Hermione smirked then gave Draco one last arse wiggle before sliding out of his arms.
“Draco,” Hermione slid to the edge of the bed and put her feet on the deep plush carpet, “if you’re tired I suppose I can take a look around on my own or possibly find someone willing to show me around.”
“I don’t think so, wench,” Draco growled as he tried to grab Hermione as she slid off the bed. With a giggle she successfully evaded his grasp.
Hermione laughed as she darted across the room, knowing full well that he would catch her in a moment. Her heart raced as he caught one of her hands and spun her around. She opened her lips willingly to his when his mouth came crashing to hers in a wet battle for supremacy. Draco pulled away and looked into her eyes.
“Promise me, Hermione,” his eyes bored into hers with an intensity she had never seen before, “promise that you won’t go walking through the club without me.”
Hermione didn’t even consider arguing but she had to know a reason why he wouldn’t want her alone in what was his domain.
As if he anticipated her questions, he immediately went on to explain. “Too many of the members here would gladly flout the rules to get a taste of you. In some circles you are still a great prize, Hermione and any of the former Death Eater’s would dearly love to have you at their mercy. I want your introduction into this life to be pleasant and safe, so please promise me you won’t go wandering alone yet.”
The sincerity and desperation in his voice frightened her a little, but she was touched by his deep concern for her. “All right, Draco. I promise but if I’m seeing you wouldn’t that protect me?”
Draco shook his head. “Until you and I have a formal contract you are still considered anyone’s meat. And consent to some in this place, is merely acknowledging their greeting. I can’t stress it enough. You mean too much.”
Hermione reached out to him when he turned his back after his admission. He stiffened when her hand fell on his arm but with a little gentle pressure she was able to turn him around to face her. Hermione stretched up and laid a simple kiss on his lips. “That means more to me than anything.”
Draco smiled down at her and something crossed his face like he had come to a decision about something. Hermione admired his form as he crossed the room and opened a box on top of one of the dressers. He stood there for some minutes as if contemplating something but his hand finally dipped inside and Hermione saw a flash of silver before he turned back to her.
“Hermione, I’d like to give you something.” In his hands was an open circle of heavy silver finely tooled with what looked like scales, on one end of the circle was a dragon’s head, mouth open ferociously, and bright emerald eyes flashing. “This will offer a little protection for you here. It is a protective collar, while we are not bound as Master and slave, this collar does signify that you are under my protection and that any who would do you harm will have to answer to me. Will you accept this collar Hermione, as a sign of my respect and honor?”
“Yes, Draco, I’ll accept your collar.” With her words the dragon came to life, when Draco placed his hands closer to her skin the dragon slithered onto her shoulder then twisted itself around her neck and settled its head and tail on her collarbone.
“It suits you Hermione,” Draco smirked, then his smile turned softer, almost wistful, as his hand lifted from his side and he stroked the cool metal dragon.
Hermione shivered under his touch and the heady emotion beneath his gaze.
“Now about that tour?”
“Demanding wench.”
Draco took her hand and led her through the rabbit warren like building with its labyrinth of hallways and corridors lined with door after door, each leading to yet another room to satisfy the appetite of the most aberrant of deviants.
“Several of the rooms have observation lounges,” explained Draco when they came to several sets of doors placed side-by-side. “A few of the members enjoy the idea that at anytime someone could enter the lounge to scrutinize their every move, their every grimace, the rise and fall of their pleasure. Exhibitionism can be quite addicting, or so I have been told.”
Hermione couldn’t help but quip, “Are you telling me the ‘Casanova’ Malfoy does not use the observation rooms?”
“No, I don’t,” he countered evenly, “many of my clients don’t wish for all and sundry to see what lengths they will go through for their release.”
“You really aren’t the same Malfoy that I knew back at Hogwarts, are you?”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” he replied with a devilish grin. “What about you, Hermione?”
“What about me, what?” Hermione asked warily.
“Do you care to delve into the world of an exhibitionist?” Draco couldn’t contain his mirth at the look of intrigued horror that crossed over her face.
“You prat,” Hermione scowled up at the blond.
“I was kidding, love. But the look on your face was a sight to behold.” Draco wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her forehead mollifying her bruised ego somewhat. “Seriously though, would you like to see what a session entails? Some good friends are to visit today and they always take an observation room.”
“They wouldn’t mind?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask.
“Of course they wouldn’t. Come on, live a little, Granger.” Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her a little ways down the corridor and led her through a scarlet door. After locking the door behind him, he shrugged, “We wouldn’t want anyone joining us do we?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
Hermione was tongue-tied and just shook her head in the negative. Draco pulled her down on the velvet-covered chaise beside him. They didn’t have to wait long for the lights in the next room to flick on, illuminating an elaborate boudoir. The room was done in shades of black, red, and steel.
Hermione gasped in shock when one of the Weasley twins came into her line of sight. She turned her surprised eyes to Draco. The thought of him being friendly with a Weasley was almost incomprehensible. He just gave her a Gallic shrug and rose to move behind her.
Her eyes were now riveted on the redheaded prankster on the next room lighting candles and setting out the tools of his prurient desires. A few coils of rope came out of a cupboard and out of a dresser came silk scarves. A riding crop and a cane were taken from the closet.
By the time he had the items situated around the room the door opened again admitting the other twin with a bundle tossed over his shoulder. Fred and George Weasley, she was still unsure which was which brother, shared smug grins as the woman was tossed unceremoniously on the bed. When the woman pushed her long blonde hair out of her face Hermione was shocked into unintelligible murmurs. She was looking at the fine boned structure of Alicia Spinnet, her staid and conservative boss.
“I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again,” Hermione said softly.
Despite the shock of seeing her superior, Hermione could feel a hot flush spread over her skin as the twins advanced on the woman seated on the bed and quickly bound her spread eagle across its surface. Quickly they added scarves for a blindfold and a gag.
Hermione unconsciously rubbed at her neck and played with the collar of her robe, idly dipping into the valley between her breasts as she watched Fred and George begin their work on the statuesque blonde’s voluptuous body.
Hermione sighed when she felt Draco’s hands drop onto her shoulders then slid down to her wrists. She didn’t protest when he drew her hands over her head and bound her wrists together with a length of soft black rope. With a tug her arms bent at the elbows and she could feel a gentle tug now and then that told her he was securing the rope to a leg of the chaise.
Hermione blushed at the heat in his eyes when he came around to the front of the chaise once more. He captured her mouth in a hard kiss as he pushed the skirt of the silky nightgown to her waist and arranged her legs just so. Her cheeks felt hot as she thought of how exposed she was. As Draco’s hands roamed her body she soon lost track of trying to follow what the twins were doing to Alicia in the other room. Her world narrowed down to this tiny room and the pinnacles of pleasure that she reached for. The bite of the rope around her wrists played in tandem to his mouth on her core and soon she sighed happily as he slid inside her, pounding so hard the legs of the chaise began to creak. Lying together breathing deeply and happily sated, neither she, nor Draco, noticed when the trio in the next room finished their games and turned out the lights when they left the chamber.
_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_~*~_
For a good definition of Sado-Masochisim try this link:
http://www.webster-dictionary.org/definition/Sadism%20and%20Masochism
And Before i forget.. to ME who left this review:
ME! 2004-11-22 id # 2035092936
Draco malfoy would like to clear up a few things about his characterization \"Leather is chafing and makes strange noises.........Malfoys DO NOT make strange noises!!!!!! thank you.\"
Are you just an idiot or have you never felt the butter softness that is deerhide leather or lambhide. Good butter soft leather is very expensive and of the sort that a Malfoy would want and easily fork over good money for. For an example of the gloves I described take a look at my LJ and the Icon for this story. The gloves there are very tight fitting and wouldn\'t squeek or make strange noises I assure you!