The Room looked different on Saturday morning immediately after breakfast. A breakfast that she'd eaten lightly at, not trusting the knots in her stomach to let her keep anything heavy down. The usual fireplace stood at one wall but the only furniture was a small table, a single chair, and a plush looking sofa directly opposite the fire.
Hermione held her position, once again completely naked with her ever present green ribbon tied around her neck, her hair swept back and tied off to make sure she was properly displayed. She'd been waiting for some time. She thought it was longer than Sir had ever kept her waiting before, actually, and she was starting to worry that something was wrong.
Had she done something else wrong? Had he gotten hurt? Had Black returned to the castle? Her mind spun in a dizzying whirl of possibilities, each worse than the last in one way or another.
Finally, the door opened and her Sir walked into the room. She couldn't help herself. Her mouth dropped open as she took in the sight of him. He was dressed in his uniform slacks and beat up old trainers which he kicked off nearly the moment he walked in the door followed by his socks, but he wasn't wearing the button down shirt that was included with the uniform. Instead he wore a simple, white, short-sleeved t-shirt and his left forearm was wrapped, nearly from wrist to elbow, in a fresh bandage.
"Sir!" she blurted out before she could hold it back and she cringed when he turned, one eyebrow raised to look at her.
"Mine?" he asked in a calm tone that sent a thrill of apprehension up her spine.
"Y-you're hurt," she stammered slightly, fighting the urge to look away from him.
A moment later he turned and continued walking toward the couch where he dropped the canvas duffle bag she'd seen the week before. "It's nothing," he said. "Just a little accident."
She very much wanted to argue, to protest that a bandage that covered half his arm was not nothing, nor could it be considered little, but she held her tongue, settling into her pose as she tried to focus her thoughts. What could have happened to him? He hadn't met her in the Common Room that morning, though she'd found a note on her pillow, delivered by Dobby, that let her know he would meet her in the Room.
She'd thought he might have been preparing something, or collecting something to use during their session, but it now seemed like he'd been for a visit to the Hospital Wing instead and she had no idea what could have happened to hurt him.
"Really, Mine," he said, causing her focus to shit from her thoughts back to him. "It's nothing. A stupid little accident that was all my fault. Madam Pomfrey said it should be all healed up by tomorrow."
She nodded, relieved to hear that and relaxed more fully into her pose as her Sir moved from his spot by the couch to take a seat in the chair in front of her, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him.
"I'd like to get this out of the way first," he said calmly. "I did have different plans for today and we can get to those afterwards, if you feel up to it."
"I understand, Sir," she said, making sure to speak clearly and keeping her eyes on his.
"We have rules for a reason, don't we, Mine?" he asked.
"Sir?" She couldn't help the slight note of confusion in her voice.
"Our relationship… what we each want out of the dynamic that we're building. We wrote out and agreed on a set of rules so that things could run as smoothly and safely as possible, right?"
"The other day, you failed to follow one of the most important rules, or, at least in my mind it is. You are not to let yourself get into a state were your work suffers, or where you suffer, are you?"
"No, Sir, I'm not," she whispered, though somewhere in the back of her mind, something stirred, some thought attempting to make its way into the foreground, almost demanding her attention.
"Do you agree that you did this?"
She opened her mouth to immediately agree, but stopped, unable to get the words out for several seconds before she suddenly let out a sigh.
"What is it?" he asked, watching her curiously.
Hesitantly, she answered. "I- I'm sorry, Sir," she said. "'I don't think I can agree with that."
The moment the words passed her lips, her eyes closed. She didn't want to see the disappointment that she was sure would be on his face.
"Look at me, Mine," he said. His tone was firm, but calm, and she carefully opened her eyes. "Don't hide from me. I won't get upset if you disagree in a situation like this. That's why we discuss these things, right? That's why I've insisted on that from the very beginning."
She nodded, a hopeful feeling of relief rising in her chest. "Yes, Sir," she breathed.
"So, explain your thoughts to me. Let's discuss this."
Nodding again, she took a few deep breaths and gathered her thoughts. "First… well, I don't believe I honestly broke that rule," she said as evenly as she could.
"The rule was that I couldn't get into a state where you had to spring a surprise session on me, Sir. That… that didn't happen. I did ask for permission to… permission to play w-with myself."
She'd started out strong, but by the end of her explanation she'd descended into embarrassed muttering, her face flushing a bright red. Sir's mouth twitched and she knew that he was trying not to smirk at her.
"What was that, Mine?" he asked.
She repeated herself, louder, but with no less stammering or stuttering.
He finally allowed himself a smirk at that, but set aside whatever he appeared to want to say for the moment in order to address the immediate discussion at hand. His smirk fell away after a moment, as he leaned back in his seat, his face settling into a contemplative expression for a time.
"What was second?" he asked suddenly after several minutes spent in silent thought.
Hermione jumped slightly, startled by the abrupt sound of his voice. "Sir?"
"You said, 'first'. That usually means there's more. What was second?"
She hesitated again, sure that her next point would not be well received, but unsure of precisely how he might react.
"The other day… you talked about trusting you. Trusting that you'll protect me, that you won't let me be hurt and that, even if it may appear as if you're leading me into danger, I need to learn to trust that you won't, or you aren't."
Nervously she licked her lips before taking a deep breath in order to continue. "You also said that you wanted me worked up. It's all part of this plan of yours that you're keeping to yourself... and that's entirely your prerogative, Sir!" she rushed to add, "You have every right not to include me in every detail, that's part of trusting you and, really, if you have to check with me over everything, well, that kind of takes away some of the impact of you being in control of me.
"But… in this case I trusted you. I did what you asked. I didn't… I didn't do anything, and I kept my plug in as you ordered and you led me to being in that state. You brought me there, intentionally, and now you want to punish me for something you ordered me to do?"
She shifted slightly as he simply stared at her, her nerves ratcheting up with every passing second, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I mean… if I've done something wrong, if I've earned a punishment then I agree, absolutely, that you should punish me. But I-I just don't feel that… I mean in this particular case I'm not certain-"
"Stop, Hermione," he cut her off as she started to ramble and her mouth shut with an audible click, her cheeks flushed. Harry watched her for another few moments before he let out a sigh and seemed to almost shrink in his chair as he sagged in on himself, his shoulders hunching inward, chin lowering slightly toward his chest.
"Damn," he muttered, fingers digging into his thighs as tension grew through his frame. "Dammit." He leaned forward, head hanging down, elbows on his knees. "Thank you," he finally said and she blinked in surprise.
"F-for what, Sir?"
"Don't… don't call me that."
He sat up again, face twisted in disgust. "This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about before," he said. "If… if I hadn't insisted that we talk these things out… I don't want to hurt you, Hermione."
"I could have. I was only planning for you to write lines in this case, but… what if I'd had a different punishment in mind? Something that would have honestly hurt, and it was for no reason? Or no good reason?"
"That didn't happen."
"But it could. That's part of what I was against with the idea of punishments in the first place."
Hermione was momentarily at a loss for words and she could see him beginning to retreat into a well of self-recrimination. She was well aware how personally he tended to take things, how much he tended to blame himself for things that went wrong, and that had been what she was most concerned about in bringing up the issues she'd mentioned.
"What happened to your arm?" she asked, hoping to distract him from those thoughts, and maybe hoping to gather a little information, she was able to admit to herself.
"It's not nothing," she disagreed, feeling far more comfortable arguing with him since he didn't seem to want to focus on their roles at the moment. Carefully, she moved out of her pose and pushed herself to her feet. She winced as she moved, muscles stiff and sore from holding her position for so long her knees cracked as she straightened, but before too long she was standing and she walked over to him, holding out one hand.
"Come here," she murmured softly and he slowly, almost reluctantly took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet, slowly leading him over to the couch where she gently pushed him down into one corner.
"What are you doing?" he asked as she sat in his lap, his right arm automatically coming around to wrap around her lower back.
"I'm not going to let you blame yourself for something that we avoided, and I'm worried about this injury you seem to have acquired overnight that I know nothing about. You weren't attacked were you?"
She gently took his left hand in hers, laying his bandaged forearm across her bare legs. "So, what happened?"
At first she didn't think he would answer, but he slowly relaxed, just a bit, and let out a long breath. "I burned myself."
"How did you manage that?" she asked, wincing in sympathy.
"I… actually, it was for you," he admitted, almost sheepishly.
"For me?" She blinked again, completely befuddled by that particular answer.
"Your list of five things you wanted to try… you included wax play on there." He shrugged one shoulder. "I didn't want to risk hot wax on you without knowing how it felt, or how high to drop the wax from so it wouldn't be too hot. I was messing around with it early this morning, and I obviously didn't get it right."
She tucked a finger under his chin and tilted his head up from where he was looking down at the bandage on his arm, smiling brightly at him as their eyes met.
"You have no idea just how much you're doing right," she told him as earnestly as she could, barely holding back a laugh at the shocked expression that flitted across his face. "I mean it," she insisted before he could protest. "You didn't want me to get hurt, so you ended up hurting yourself trying to figure it out. We might have had a situation here, but we avoided that because you insist that we discuss all punishments; that the 'why' is completely clear to both of us.
"Accidents can and will happen, Sir," she said, adding a special emphasis to the last word. "That's just the way of the world. But you've done a lot to minimize them, and that's just another thing that proves I was right to trust you."
"Yes, I trusted you, and you led me into a situation that wasn't ideal. But you're not perfect, Sir. You're going to make mistakes at times. But I know they won't be careless or stupid mistakes, because you've tried, and keep trying, so hard to make sure you don't hurt me beyond what's deserved."
Sighing, he pulled her closer with the arm he had wrapped around her and dropped his head, pressing his face into the crook between her neck and shoulder. She couldn't help but shiver as his breath washed hotly across her skin.
"You know," he said, his voice muffled against her, "I used to be really good at wallowing in my own misery. Why won't you let me do that?"
Hermione smiled, lifting her hands to gently run her fingers through his messy hair. "It's my job to be here for you, just as much as you see it as your job to protect me," she whispered. "Sub, girlfriend, best friend… no matter what, or who, I am, I'm always here for you, and I'm not going to let you make yourself miserable over something that didn't happen. Something that was prevented largely because of the precautions that you insisted on."
"I could just order you to, you know."
She actually laughed at that, slightly surprised at how relieved she felt to hear him cracking jokes over the entire situation. "That's an order I'll never obey, Sir."
He sat up and leaned in to kiss her briefly before he leaned back again, a considering expression on his face. She sat quietly in his lap, letting him think for several long minutes as she simply enjoyed being close to him.
"I still think there's something we need to address," he said. "I'm not entirely certain how to define what I'm thinking though."
"What is it, Sir?"
"Not… not a punishment… but I believe there's something about your behavior that needs to be adjusted, Mine."
She sat up, her spine straightening at the shift in his tone and the use of his name for her, a shiver of apprehension running through her.
"I did want you worked up, I admit, but you said you didn't ask me for permission because you were embarrassed. It was largely the fact that you tried to hold out for so long that got you into the state you were in on Wednesday night, correct?"
"Yes, Sir," she agreed, realizing that he was right. She knew she should have asked sooner, but she just hadn't been able to shake that embarrassment. That and possibly the idea of asking for permission to do something that had always been hers to do when she wanted, without anyone else's permission being needed. It would be like needing his permission to use the loo.
Oh, Merlin, please don't let him think of that.
The fingers of his right hand tapped, absently against her hip for several seconds as he thought. Finally, he nodded to himself.
"Stand up and bring my chair over here, Mine," he ordered, which she immediately moved to obey. She moved over and grabbed the chair, pulling it across the floor toward the couch and turned it at his direction so that it was placed six feet away and facing where Sir was sitting in the center.
"Sit," he ordered, pointing to the chair.
Harry watched as Hermione sat, carefully dropping into the chair so as not to sit directly on her plug, her arms coming automatically to lie along the arms. It had already been an interesting morning, and personally, he might have been willing to end things there, but he'd promised her a session, and his original plans didn't quite feel right anymore. Besides, the new thought on his mind needed to be addressed, he felt, before they moved on.
"You've enjoyed being embarrassed up till now. You've been turned on by it, and by being humiliated and degraded," he pointed out, noting how she squirmed in her seat for a moment before nodding.
"Yes, Sir, I have," she quietly agreed.
"Then why was this so different? Why was this too embarrassing for you to come to me?"
"I was thinking… the other night before you came back down… I just…" Hermione sighed and trailed off, frustrated that she couldn't quite seem to find the words she was looking for. "When you're doing this to me, when you're embarrassing me, it's something that you control and it was my choice to give you that control. That's… comforting and… arousing, if that makes any sense. I was thinking I felt like such a slut, something I've always considered in a very poor light.
"I think I just started to realize just how often I wanted to… to play with myself, and just how much of a slut I've been, or I'm becoming? I don't know. I don't know if that was always there inside me, and I'm just now learning about it, or if it's something new and… I-I'm just not sure how to handle it."
He considered that, chin cupped in his upturned left palm as he observed her.
"Is it something you want to stop?" he finally asked, to which she immediately shook her head.
"No, Sir. I don't want to stop, I just… ugh!" She groaned and dropped her head into her hands, elbows propped on the arms of the chair. "I don't want to stop," she repeated, "I just… I think it's all something I need to learn more about? I mean… part of all this is learning about ourselves, and this is just another aspect of myself that I didn't know. It will most likely just take me time to come to grips with it somehow."
She lifted her head from her hands, looking hopefully at her Sir, hoping that she'd made some kind of sense in her ramblings. She did love it when he embarrassed and humiliated her. She didn't know why, it went against everything she felt she knew to enjoy being degraded that way. She didn't like it when people like Malfoy or Ronald talked to her like she was beneath them, or insulted her. But when Sir did it to her… Merlin, it made her knees week and her heart race.
"Let me know if you ever change your mind on that," he ordered firmly. "I'm not going to be angry if you decide something isn't for you, do you understand?"
She nodded quickly. "Of course, Sir. Thank you."
Sitting up he leaned back in his seat again. "So… would you like to know what I've decided to do for the rest of this session?" he asked, a worrying glint in his eyes and that smirk once again taking up residence on his lips.
"Yes, Sir," she responded as calmly as she could, but she was absolutely positive that she wasn't able to keep the eagerness and apprehension from her tone. The way his smirk grew, she was equally positive that he'd noticed.
"You might consider this a punishment, at least at first, but I promise you it's not, Mine. You remember, of course, I'm supposed to be training you, right?"
"I'm supposed to be teaching you how to be the kind of sub that I want. Well… part of the problem with that is I don't really know what kind of sub I want. I don't know enough, haven't learned enough about myself yet to really know. But I do believe that I've discovered something I would like to change in your behavior."
"What's that, Sir?"
"You delayed asking my permission because you were embarrassed. You're allowed to be embarrassed, Mine. You know I enjoy seeing you that way. But," he added the last word with a special emphasis, stressing it clearly, "you cannot let embarrassment prevent you from following instructions. You were told that if you wanted to get yourself off, you needed to ask me for permission. You wanted to, but you didn't ask because you felt too embarrassed to speak up."
"I rather like you being and acting the horny little slut, just for me. So right now what you're going to do for me, Mine, is sit there, with your legs spread and hooked over the arms of that chair, and you're going to play with yourself while I watch. When you get close, I want you to beg me to let you cum, but you need to convince me that you're not ashamed to beg, that you're not ashamed or embarrassed to be my slutty Mine. Do you understand?"
There it is, Hermione thought as he finished speaking. There's that confidence and control.
"I-I u-understand, Sir," she stammered, flushed and wide eyed.
His smile was small, but showed genuine affection that practically had her melting. "Good girl," he said, causing yet another warm rush to flow through her body.
Quickly, she made to follow his orders, and just as quickly, she discovered it wouldn't be quite as simple as she'd first thought. With the plug in her arse she couldn't just lift her legs over the arms of the chair. Doing so would have her weight pushing down directly on the end of the plug. It took her a minute, but eventually she found a position that worked, slumped down in the seat, shifting and tilting her hips so she wasn't resting on the plug as she spread her legs and hooked the backs of her knees over the arms.
She was positive that she'd never blushed more furiously as she found that her new position left both of her holes exposed as if presenting herself to him. With her legs splayed so wide the most intimate parts of her body were completely open to his view, and she couldn't get over how completely wanton and lewd she must look.
Like a slut, she thought.
Her gaze shifted, following the sound of Sir's voice to find that, while she was getting herself into position, he had moved as well. He'd abandoned his seat and was now sitting on the ground, his legs stretched out before him with his back resting against the front of the couch. This new seat put his face perfectly level with her exposed cunt and arse.
"Sir!" she blurted out. "What are you doing?"
He looked away from her soaked and swollen cunt, green eyes flicking up to her face for a moment before dropping back to where she had instinctively covered herself with her hands.
"Didn't I tell you that you aren't to hide yourself from me?" he asked, a warning note in his voice.
She whimpered slightly before she slowly moved her hands. "I'm sorry, Sir," she whined, breath already labored and heavy, and she hadn't even started yet!
"Don't be sorry, just stop doing that. As for what I'm doing, I'm making sure I have a good spot to watch you fuck yourself."
Oh, God, she thought even as her face burned and a low whine made its way out of her mouth.
"You'd better get started, Mine," he reminded her a moment later. "And don't forget, you need to convince me that you've earned the right to cum."
"Yes, Sir," she replied and immediately her hands drifted back between her legs, not to hide, but to follow her orders.
As her fingers hesitantly slid through her slick folds, Hermione felt herself torn in opposing directions. On the one hand she'd never felt more mortified or embarrassed. To be playing with herself like this, in full view, putting herself so completely on display. On the other hand, she found herself falling easily into her headspace and she was reminded of the feeling she'd had during their last session in the Room the previous week. The feeling that Hermione was fading away and, more and more, with each passing moment, she became Mine.
Mine, who was nothing but a slut for her Sir. A toy for him to play with and use however he saw fit.
Despite the tentative and hesitant quality of her physical explorations of her body in that precise moment, her emotional state ramped her up to the point where she was close to her release within just minutes of starting. Her body felt flushed, muscles tightening as her back arched completely outside her conscious will, thrusting her breasts up and forward in the process.
She was close, but nowhere near as desperate as she'd been on Wednesday night.
"May I c-cum, Sir?" she panted.
"Look at me, Mine," he ordered and she opened her eyes, unaware that she'd had them closed the entire time, and looked at him between her splayed legs.
She whimpered when she noticed that his gaze was fixed intently at the juncture between her thighs where her hands were busy stroking her cunt.
"You don't seem particularly… enthusiastic," he commented in a conversational tone, as if commenting on the weather, or discussing some mundane piece of trivia.
"I'm… I'm not sure-" She broke off, moaning softly for a moment before she finished, "what you mean, Sir."
"Stop," he ordered firmly and her hands froze. "Move your hands."
She did, shivering slightly as she took her soaked fingers away and rested then on her bare thighs.
"I said you were to beg me," he said, his eyes never moving away from her cunt and the gem of the plug nestled firmly in her arse. "You need to convince me that you deserve to cum."
"I'm sorry, S-Sir. It's just…"
"Just what, Mine?"
"I'm just… n-nervous."
He was silent for a moment as her heart rate slowed slightly and she moved further away from the imminent orgasm she'd been approaching. She barely bit back a yelp when Harry suddenly waved his wand and with a muttered incantation, her chair started to slide forward, closer to him. She had been six feet away, and when her chair stopped moving, his feet were just under the edge of her seat, bringing her to within three feet of him and she was sure her face couldn't get any redder than it currently was as he adjusted his glasses on his nose.
"Why do you want to submit to me?" he asked in an almost conversational tone, as if he weren't mere feet away from her as her body leaked her arousal onto the seat beneath her.
"Why, Mine?" he repeated. "Is it just that you want to be controlled? Just that you want someone to order you around? Or do you also want to make your Dom, your Sir, happy with you? Do you want me to be pleased with you?"
"I love it every time I do something that I know pleases you," she admitted. "It causes a feeling… it's unlike anything I've ever experienced before. I can't begin to describe it."
"Then you should know that what you're doing here, at my order, pleases me greatly. You shouldn't feel ashamed of what you're doing, how you're feeling. Again, feel embarrassed if you must, but don't let that prevent you from following instructions."
She nodded slowly as her breathing and heart rate both approached something closer resembling normal. "Yes, Sir," she finally said after taking in and releasing a deep, calming breath.
"What are your instructions?"
"To play with myself for you, and I'm to beg you, convince you that I've earned the right to cum," she whimpered.
"Start again," he ordered, "and show me you want it. Don't be so hesitant."
Immediately her left hand drifted between her legs again but her right moved up, sliding across her stomach until she reached her left breast, cupping the soft mound firmly as her fingers slid back into her body.
"Yes, Sir," she moaned as she pinched the hard nub of her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. She kept her eyes open, watching as his gaze remained fixed where two of her fingers now plunged repeatedly inside her, her moans growing louder with each passing moment as her body coiled and tightened.
"You have no idea how sexy you look like this," he murmured, his voice washing over her as she gave her nipple a harder pinch than before, her back arching again as a mixture of pain and pleasure coursed through her.
Sir thinks I'm sexy, she thought in a daze, another low moaning rising from her throat. Gods, why did that thought make everything feel so much better? Why did doing this for him make her hotter than almost anything she'd ever felt? Fuck, who cares?
"P-please," she whined, the single word broken by a hard thrust of her fingers into the searing heat between her legs. "Please, S-Sir!"
"Please, what, Mine?" he asked, his tone firm but underlaid with something that she couldn't quite place.
"Please… I need… I need to…" She broke off with another moan, scissoring her fingers inside her body as her right hand clutched at her breast with almost bruising force.
"Stop," he ordered and she complied immediately though a piteous whine escaped her as she pulled her hand away from her twitching cunt.
"S-Sir?" she gasped, begged really, her eyes glazed over slightly, lids heavy with lust.
"What are you, Mine?"
"I'm… I'm yours, Sir," she panted, not entirely sure what he was asking.
"Well of course, you're mine," he agreed. "But that's not what I'm asking."
"I don't understand."
"What are you supposed to be? Right now? I already told you what I wanted, what I found I liked you being, just for me."
Her mind cast about, desperate to find the meaning behind his statement but she wasn't sure what he meant.
"Start again," he ordered and she suddenly couldn't get her hands on her cunt fast enough. Gone was any hint of hesitation or embarrassment. She knew she should feel embarrassed. She should feel ashamed of herself for acting so… so out of control. All she knew for certain at that time was she wanted desperately to cum.
Her fingers plunged into her body while with her right hand she rubbed at her clit, her muscles twitching and spasming each time her fingers brushed over that swollen, aching bundle of nerves at the top of her mound. Sharp, keening cries escaped her and within minutes she had to force herself to slow down as she teetered on the edge of that abyss.
Sir's voice cut through the haze her mind had descended into and she realized she'd been begging, pleading, over and over, the words tumbling from her lips completely unbidden.
"Please!" she cried out. "Please, I need to cum, Sir. P-please, may I cum?" she begged.
"What are you?"
The answer suddenly clicked into place and the words sprang to her lips, tumbling out of her before she could even question them. "I'm yours, Sir. Your horny, begging little slut. Just for you, I'm your slut, Sir."
The smile he gave her was so full of pride that it cut through her addled thoughts and another wave of warmth washed through her. "Good girl."
Her body shook, her fingers never ceasing to thrust into her cunt or to circle her clit and her moans turned into gasping pants as she inched ever closer to release.
"Cum for me," he ordered. "My slutty Mine."
At that point she wasn't certain she could have stopped herself if she'd tried, but with his spoken permission she shoved her fingers hard into her body and with her right hand pinched her clit as her entire body suddenly went taut. She didn't moan or cry out. As her back arched again a full throated scream tore itself from her gaping mouth as something inside her snapped and the world around her vanished in a white haze.
She didn't think she lost consciousness, but later she wouldn't be able to say for certain. All she did know was that when she became aware of her surroundings again, she was curled up in her Sir's lap on the couch and he was holding her trembling, sweat soaked body gently against him.
"Drink," he murmured, and she became aware of the glass of water he was holding in his free hand and just how parched her mouth and throat felt. She drank, gratefully, greedily, her hands failing to respond to any mental commands so she let him hold and tilt the glass for her.
A blanket was wrapped around her and Sir settled further into the couch, cradling her body close against him with one hand gently stroking her hair and up and down her back as she curled into him.
Safe, she thought, her mind drifting aimlessly as she attempted to burrow against the warm, solid presence beneath her.
"I am very proud of you," he murmured against her hair and she felt him press a kiss to her temple. "You were such a good girl." A warm tingle ran through her and she sighed in contentment, reveling in the feelings rushing through her.
He continued to praise her in quiet murmurs against her ear, hands soothingly stroking her hair and back as she clung to him, her mind swinging wildly back and forth from one extreme to another. She couldn't decide if she felt liberated, freed by behaving in such a wanton and uninhibited way in front of her Sir, or if she was deeply ashamed by how she'd acted.
A slightly distressed, mewling sound escaped her as she burrowed closer to the warm, solid presence of her Sir and his arms tightened around her naked, blanket wrapped body, holding her close.
"What's wrong, Mine?" he asked quietly and she could hear a small note of distress in his voice. She wanted to explain it to him, she wanted that desperately, but somehow the words wouldn't come and she only shook her head, pressing her face against his neck and repeatedly breathing in the calming scent of his skin.
"Talk to me, love," he ordered gently.
She shook her head again. "Just… not sure… not sure how to feel," she muttered against his neck.
"How do you mean?"
She shrugged, the blanket slipping off one shoulder for a moment before he pulled it back up, carefully wrapping her in its warmth.
"Is it a bad thing?" he asked gently and she shook her head again.
"Don't think so. Not sure," she muttered.
He hummed quietly, as he had a tendency to do, and simply held her, one hand continuing to stroke up and down her back. The scent of him filled her nose and the feel of his body beneath her, his hands on her back… it all came together to calm and soothe her and before she knew it she was simply drifting. Her mind thought of nothing beyond the feelings of love and safety that filled her as she rested in her Sir's arms.
Eventually she began to feel more like herself and she stirred in his arms, pressing soft kisses against his neck.
"Welcome back," he murmured softly, his arms tightening around her again. "I was getting worried about you."
She let out a long, contented sigh.
"There was absolutely nothing to worry about, Sir," she whispered. "That was… I can't describe what that experience was like. I'm sorry I worried you though, I just couldn't get my mind to focus."
"Is that something you think is likely to happen again?" he asked.
She considered that carefully for a moment, absently nuzzling into the crook of his neck as her mind worked. "I think it might," she finally admitted. "I… I just felt so completely submissive. I couldn't think about any of my inhibitions or anything, nothing but doing what you ordered me to do by the end, Sir. I was… I wasn't sure how to feel. Part of me wanted to feel terribly ashamed of how I acted, but another part felt so liberated, giving up control to you like that."
She tried to find better words to describe what she'd experienced but nothing seemed to fit, nothing seemed to properly convey the depth of her feelings so instead she simply pressed herself closer, molding her body to his as her arms came around him and she hugged him tightly, doing her best to convey without any words just how much she appreciated him, and what he was doing for her.
Harry let out a small groan as she shifted on his lap.
"What's wrong?" she asked, immediately pulling back in concern.
He let out a small laugh. "Nothing's wrong, Mine," he assured her. "You're just killing me here."
He shifted slightly beneath her and she flushed as she suddenly felt the hard length of his erection under her arse.
Her pulse quickened slightly as an idea popped into her mind. "May I… can I help you with that?" she asked, almost timidly, wary of any action that might be construed as her attempting to take any form of control. She really didn't want to give him a reason to have to punish her again.
He quirked a brow at her, his expression otherwise unreadable for several moments before he spoke. "Did you have something in mind?" he asked and she flushed again as a thought immediately crowded to the forefront of her mind.
She hesitated, however, to voice it and his quirked brow lowered into a frown.
"If I ask if you have a thought, or a preference, it's because I want to know, Mine. If it doesn't fit what I have in mind, or if I don't want to do it, I'll tell you, but don't be embarrassed to answer a question when I ask."
She flushed again, but shamefully that time and nodded.
"Of course, Sir, I'm sorry." She shifted nervously on his lap, once more becoming acutely aware of his condition and she couldn't help but lick her lips, just slightly.
"Honestly, since last week I've really… I've really wanted to taste you again, Sir," she forced out in a small, quiet tone.
His frown cleared and suddenly there was a trace of amusement in his eyes and he tilted his head away from her, offering her better access to his neck. "By all means," he said. "Though I'm honestly not sure that will really be enough to help with my problem."
Her cheeks burned and she squirmed even more in his lap. "Tha-that's not exactly what I meant, Sir," she admitted and he straightened up so he could look at her more fully.
"Say what you mean, then, Mine."
Taking a deep breath she sat up straight in his lap, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders. "I would very much like to feel your cock in my mouth again, Sir. I enjoyed sucking you off last week a lot more than I ever thought I would, and I've been thinking about it off and on ever since," she let out in a single breath, inordinately proud of herself for managing to say the entire thing without stuttering or stumbling even once.
By the expression on Sir's face, he was proud of her too and he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Good girl," he murmured, his lips moving against her skin and sending a delighted shiver down her spine.
He leaned back, a thoughtful expression stealing over his face for a moment and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder again while she waited for him to decide what he wanted her to do.
"I had some different plans for today," he admitted after a short time. "That plan of mine that I've been hinting at since last Sunday, to be perfectly honest. But after everything today… I don't feel it's the right time anymore. So I do believe we'll go with your idea, but first you need to get up and get dressed.
She immediately stood, grateful when Sir steadied her as her legs wobbled slightly once she had her feet under her. "May I ask why I need to dress?" she asked as she moved over to collect her clothes from where she'd folded them and left them beside the sofa earlier.
With her lesson so fresh in her mind, she gave barely a moment's consideration to a thought that occurred to her before she bent over, her feet slightly apart, giving Sir a perfect view of her cunt and the plug in her arse as she picked up her clothes.
It's all right to act a little slutty, she reminded herself, a thrill passing through her at her own actions, as long as it's just for Sir. Clothes in hand, she set them on the arm of the couch and began dressing, first stepping into and then pulling a dark, knee length skirt up her legs and over her hips.
"It's getting close to lunch," he said as she slipped her bra on and reached back to hook it closed, adjusting it after a moment so the straps sat comfortably over her shoulders, "But we need to head back to the common room for a minute when we're done here before we can go to the Great Hall."
Nodding, she pulled on a t-shirt, larger than those she typically wore to sleep in, and then a comfortable jumper over that. Once her socks and shoes were on her feet she had only her robes left and glanced over at him.
"Leave the robes," he ordered. "Come here, Mine."
She moved over to stand in front of him and lowered herself to her knees, waiting patiently for his order.
"I think you know what to do, don't you, Mine?"
Hermione nodded eagerly and placed her hands on his knees before sliding them up his thighs to his belt. Faster than she'd expected, she had his belt undone, trousers unbuttoned, and was pulling them and his black boxers down as he obligingly lifted his bum off of the couch in order to help her.
It was just as she was wrapping her lips around the head of his stiff member that he gave her another order. A moan of mixed desire and panic escaped her but she carefully kept her attention on her task as she set to bringing her Sir to cum in her welcoming mouth.
Harry chatted brightly with his Mine as the two of them made their way through the seventh floor corridors toward the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. For a day that had started off on a few rocky notes, he felt things had progressed rather well. They'd managed to avoid some stumbling blocks, yet he felt closer to her than ever before after the conversation they'd had. While he was attempting his usual self-flagellation, she'd overcome his self-doubts, and he resolved to find some way to show her just how much he appreciated her and everything she did for him.
She had been excruciatingly gorgeous and sexy to him during her lesson, the way her body moved, the sounds that escaped her mouth as she'd brought herself to the edge on his order. That feeling is absolutely habit forming, he thought again, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to focus on going over Ancient Runes with the wonderful witch at his side. The control she gave up to him, taking that control over her was absolutely the headiest and most intoxicating feeling he'd ever imagined and he found himself enjoying the control that he had over her more and more as each day passed.
These sessions might have been largely for her benefit at first, but he could no longer deny that he was reaping the benefits as well, and not just in having a willing and enthusiastic partner for their growing sexual explorations. He felt calmer, more in control of himself, and more confident in himself. He was enjoying his new class immensely, finding Ancient Runes to be a fascinating subject, and he couldn't help but think that all the changes in his life had stemmed from one joking command given to her late one December evening and two little words that sparked the changes in both their lives after that.
They stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady and Harry continued to chat with Hermione who had been nearly completely silent during their walk, only humming quietly to agree or disagree with his statements. The longer they stood there, the redder her cheeks became and the more the Fat Lady eyed them curiously. He could see Mine struggling not to duck her head and knew that she wanted nothing more in that moment then to have her eyes directed at the floor so as to hide her face as best she could.
He only let it go on for a minute… maybe two, before taking pity on her and, standing beside her, he reached over and pinched her bum, as he'd told her he would do once they arrived here.
She jumped, just slightly, her face and neck flushing even more as she took a step forward, catching the Fat Lady's eye. When the portrait had turned its attention completely to his wonderful Mine, she very deliberately swallowed the mouthful of his cum that he'd ordered her to hold until he gave her permission to swallow it.
With her mouth clear, and the Fat Lady looking very confused at her actions, she stammered out the password that would allow them entrance into the Tower. The Fat Lady let out a quiet huff at their behavior before the portrait swung open.
"It's very nearly lunch time," she informed them as they walked past her into the Common Room. "You might want to hurry things along."
"We will, thank you," Harry called back cheerfully, hooking his arm through Mine's and leading her calmly over to their spot by the fire.
The Common Room was empty, the students likely all already down in the Great Hall so when they reached the couch he sat and pulled her, unresisting into his lap.
"Did that embarrass you?" he asked. "Swallowing my cum in front of the portrait like that, knowing that she'd see and that she'll be wondering about it?"
She nodded her head rapidly, "Yes, Sir."
"But did you enjoy it?" he pressed when she fell silent and she squirmed in his lap.
"Yes, Sir," she breathed quietly.
Harry couldn't help but smile as he let his right hand tangle in her hair at the base of her skull, pulling her toward him to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
"Before we head down to eat I want you to tell me what you learned today," he whispered to her, leaning back on the sofa so he could see her clearly.
"It's okay to be embarrassed," she said, "but I can't let that stop me from following instructions."
He nodded. "And?" he prompted her, smirking when she flushed again.
"I-it's okay to be and act like a slut, as long as it's just for you, Sir."
Pride filling him, he pulled her into a tight hug, his arms wrapped securely around her waist as her own arms came up around his shoulders. They sat there holding each other for a few minutes before he pulled away and gently urged her to her feet.
Once he was standing as well he cupped her cheeks with his hands and pressed another kiss to her forehead. "Good girl," he told her in a quiet voice, smiling as her expression lit up before he took her hand and led her from the tower, the portrait closing silently behind them on an empty Common Room.