Day 7 - Mirror Play/Ropes Play/Nipple Clamps/Riding Crop
"Look at yourself," Narcissa's voice purred, low and dangerous, as she stood behind Hermione, her breath warm against Hermione's ear. "So helpless. So wet. You can't hide anything from me… not when you're spread open like this."
Hermione whimpered, her body trembling with the intensity of her position. She was bound to the chair, her arms tied behind her back, her legs spread wide and fastened securely to the legs of the chair with intricate ropes. Every movement was restricted, every inch of her body exposed. In front of her, a tall mirror reflected the image of her swollen, glistening folds, the ropes biting into her skin, her body completely at Narcissa's mercy.
Her nipples, too, were adorned with cruel silver serpent clamps—elegant but biting. The serpents' jaws dug into her tender flesh, their fangs sharp enough to draw the smallest beads of blood, a crimson bloom against her pale skin. The pain was sharp, but it was a pain that only heightened everything else—the heat between her legs, the tension in the room, the way Narcissa's dark gaze never left her reflection.
"You're so needy," Narcissa murmured, her voice laced with satisfaction as she trailed her fingers down Hermione's neck, her touch barely brushing the skin. "I can see how much this excites you. How much you love being bound, being mine. Look at how swollen you are, how wet."
Hermione's eyes flickered to the mirror, her breath catching at the sight of herself—her exposed folds glistening in the candlelight, her body on full display for Narcissa. There was no hiding her arousal, no hiding the fact that she was completely at Narcissa's mercy.
Narcissa's hand moved lower, her fingers grazing over the silver serpent clamps that bit into Hermione's nipples. Hermione gasped, the sharp sting of the clamps sending jolts of pain and pleasure through her body. The pressure of the serpents' fangs dug deeper, the small blossoms of blood darkening against her skin.
"Such a pretty sight," Narcissa whispered, her fingers teasing the chains that connected the serpent clamps, pulling them just enough to make Hermione moan. "Your nipples are so sensitive, aren't they? It must hurt so beautifully."
Hermione whimpered again, her body trembling as the combination of pain and pleasure overwhelmed her. Narcissa's hands were firm, her touch commanding as she tugged lightly on the chains, sending sharp spikes of sensation through Hermione's chest.
"And still," Narcissa continued, her voice soft but dark as she leaned down to press her lips against the shell of Hermione's ear. "You're dripping. I can see how much you love this. How much you love being helpless for me."
Hermione's cheeks flushed, her body writhing slightly against the ropes as Narcissa's words sank in. The truth of it burned in her, making her pulse quicken. She did love it—loved being completely under Narcissa's control, loved the way her body betrayed her arousal even as she tried to hold back.
"You look pathetic like this," Narcissa said, her tone laced with wicked amusement as she traced the curve of Hermione's neck with her fingertips, her nails grazing lightly against her skin. "But that's what you are, aren't you? My little pet, aching for me to touch you, to use you."
Hermione's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest as Narcissa's degrading words hit her like a physical blow. She should have been embarrassed—ashamed, even—but instead, the words only made her wetter, her body responding to Narcissa's every cruel taunt.
"Say it," Narcissa demanded, her voice sharp as her hand wrapped around the chains of the nipple clamps, pulling them just enough to make Hermione gasp. "Tell me what you are."
Hermione's head fell back, her body trembling as the sharp pain of the clamps shot through her chest. "I'm your pet," she whispered, her voice strained but filled with need. "I'm yours."
Narcissa's lips curled into a satisfied smile, her fingers releasing the chains as she moved to stand in front of Hermione, her eyes dark with hunger as she looked down at her. "Good girl."
The praise was a sharp contrast to the degrading words she had just spoken, but it sent a shiver of pleasure through Hermione's body all the same. Narcissa's hands moved lower, sliding down Hermione's torso, her fingers brushing over her hips, her thighs, before stopping just above the ropes that held her legs wide apart.
"You're soaked," Narcissa murmured, her fingers barely grazing Hermione's swollen folds as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against Hermione's skin. "So desperate to be touched."
Hermione whimpered, her body trembling with the intensity of it all—the ropes biting into her skin, the nipple clamps sending sharp jolts of pain and pleasure through her chest, and now Narcissa's fingers teasing her slick heat. But Narcissa wasn't giving her what she needed. Not yet.
"You want more, don't you?" Narcissa's voice was low, dangerous, filled with dark amusement as she pulled her hand away, leaving Hermione aching for her touch. "Of course, you do."
Before Hermione could respond, Narcissa's hand came down hard, slapping her exposed pussy with a sharp crack. Hermione gasped, her body jerking against the ropes as the sting spread through her, a mix of pain and pleasure that left her breathless.
Narcissa chuckled softly, her hand caressing Hermione's thigh in a mockingly soothing gesture. "That got your attention, didn't it?" she whispered, her fingers trailing over the reddened skin before lifting her hand again.
The second slap landed harder, right across Hermione's swollen folds, and this time she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her lips. The pain was sharp, but the heat it left behind only made her wetter, her body clenching around nothing as she struggled against the ropes that held her.
Narcissa's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she stepped back, admiring the way Hermione's body reacted to her. "You take it so beautifully," she murmured, her tone almost affectionate as she turned to retrieve something from the nearby dresser. "But we're just getting started."
When Narcissa turned back, a thin, black riding crop was in her hand. Hermione's heart raced as she watched Narcissa approach, the gleam of the crop in the firelight sending a shiver down her spine. Narcissa ran the tip of the crop lightly over Hermione's thigh, teasing her with the promise of what was to come.
"Now, pet," Narcissa purred, her voice soft but commanding. "Let's see how much more you can take."
With that, Narcissa brought the crop down sharply on Hermione's inner thigh, the thin leather biting into her skin with a sharp crack. Hermione gasped, her body jerking against the ropes as the sting spread through her, a sharp line of heat blooming across her skin. The pain was intense, but it only added to the overwhelming sensation of being completely at Narcissa's mercy.
Narcissa didn't give her time to recover. She brought the crop down again, this time on the other thigh, the crack of leather against skin filling the room. Hermione whimpered, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the pain radiated through her body, mixing with the arousal that had been building for what felt like an eternity.
"You're marked now," Narcissa whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction as her fingertips lightly traced the fresh welts on Hermione's thighs, her touch delicate despite the cruelty of her actions. "All these pretty little marks. They'll remind you just how far beneath me you really are."
Hermione's breath came in shaky, uneven bursts as Narcissa's words washed over her, mixing with the burning sensation on her skin. The pain from the sharp strikes still radiated through her body, but the sting only served to heighten the arousal that had her trembling with need. Bound as she was, her legs spread wide, her swollen folds glistening in the dim light, Hermione was utterly exposed—both physically and emotionally.
"You look pitiful like this," Narcissa continued, her aristocratic voice a soft, disdainful purr as she admired Hermione's reflection in the mirror. "Pathetic and desperate, just like a proper pet should be. What would the world think if they saw their little Gryffindor war hero like this?"
Hermione whimpered softly, her cheeks flushing with both humiliation and arousal. Narcissa's words cut deep, reminding her of her place in this moment—at Narcissa's mercy, helpless and laid bare in the most vulnerable way imaginable. Every taunt, every mocking word only added to the heat that coiled inside her, tightening with each cruel sentence.
"You're dripping, pet," Narcissa murmured, her voice laced with wicked amusement as her fingers slid down between Hermione's thighs, teasing her slick heat without offering any real relief. "You should be ashamed of yourself. Needing me this much. Look at you. You're a mess."
Hermione's entire body tensed as Narcissa's fingers grazed her aching clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her that made her back arch instinctively. The ropes dug into her skin, restricting her movements and amplifying her helplessness as Narcissa's touch teased and tormented her.
Narcissa picked up the riding crop once more, the thin leather tip brushing lightly against Hermione's inner thigh before trailing lower, over her swollen, glistening folds. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her entire body tensing as she realized what was coming.
"You deserve to be punished, don't you, pet?" Narcissa asked, her voice dangerously soft as she drew the crop back, the tip barely grazing Hermione's clit. "You're so desperate for my attention, so eager to be used… I think it's time to remind you of your place."
Hermione's pulse quickened, her heart racing as Narcissa brought the crop down hard against her swollen pussy. The sharp crack of leather against wet skin filled the room, and Hermione gasped, her body jerking violently against the ropes as the intense sting spread through her.
The pain was blinding, a sharp, searing sensation that made her cry out, but beneath it was a rush of heat that only made her wetter, her body clenching with the unbearable need for more.
Narcissa's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she watched Hermione writhe beneath her, her body trembling with the mix of pain and pleasure that had consumed her. "You take it so well," she purred, her voice thick with pride as she drew the crop back again, aiming for the same sensitive spot. "But then, you were always meant to serve me, weren't you?"
Another sharp crack, another strike against Hermione's swollen folds, and this time Hermione couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her lips. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, the sting of the crop mingling with the unbearable heat of her arousal, her clit throbbing with each brutal strike.
Narcissa chuckled softly, her tone dripping with mockery as she brought the crop down again, this time directly against Hermione's aching clit. The impact was sharp and precise, sending a jolt of pain that made Hermione's body seize up, her hips bucking against the ropes as the pleasure and pain crashed over her.
"That's it," Narcissa whispered, her voice dark and seductive as she watched Hermione struggle against the restraints. "I can see how much you love this. How much you love being broken down for me. Your little Gryffindor pride means nothing now, does it?"
Hermione's entire body trembled, her mind spinning as Narcissa's words cut deep, each degrading comment sinking into her skin like the bite of the crop. She was completely at Narcissa's mercy, reduced to nothing more than a needy, desperate pet begging for release.
"You're pathetic," Narcissa continued, her voice soft but vicious as she brought the crop down once more, this time teasing Hermione's clit with a light, rapid series of taps that made Hermione's legs quiver with the effort of staying still. "Look at you. Completely undone for me."
Hermione's breaths came faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the sensations built, each sharp sting of the crop sending her closer to the edge. The pain was unbearable, but it was the pleasure that overwhelmed her, the need for release coiling tight inside her, making her body tremble with anticipation.
"You want to come, don't you?" Narcissa asked, her voice dangerously soft as she leaned in, her breath warm against Hermione's ear. "But you don't get to come until I say so. You'll wait, like the obedient little pet you are."
Hermione whimpered, her body trembling as Narcissa's hand wrapped around the chains of the nipple clamps, tugging them just hard enough to send fresh waves of pain through her already overwhelmed body. The combination of sensations was too much—her body couldn't take much more, and yet Narcissa held her back, keeping her on the edge with merciless precision.
"I could make you come right now," Narcissa whispered, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear as her fingers pressed lightly against her throbbing clit, teasing her with just enough pressure to make her body seize up. "But you don't deserve it yet."
Hermione's entire body trembled, her mind spinning with the unbearable need for release. Every nerve was alight, every muscle tense with the effort of holding herself together, but Narcissa continued to torment her, drawing out the pleasure and pain until Hermione was nothing more than a trembling, desperate mess.
"Please…" Hermione whimpered, her voice barely audible as she struggled to form words. "Please… let me come…"
Narcissa's lips curved into a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she finally relented, her fingers pressing harder against Hermione's clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that sent shockwaves through Hermione's trembling body.
"Then come for me, pet," Narcissa whispered, her voice thick with command as she thrust her fingers inside Hermione, filling her completely. "Scream my name."
Hermione gasped, her body jerking violently as Narcissa's fingers plunged deep inside her, the sudden fullness making her legs tremble with the overwhelming sensation. The pressure on her clit, combined with the way Narcissa's fingers curled inside her, hitting that perfect spot, sent her teetering on the edge of release. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire, the pain from the crop, the sting of the nipple clamps, and the pleasure from Narcissa's relentless touch all blending together into a heady mix that left her mind spinning.
She tried to hold back, tried to keep herself from falling apart too quickly, but Narcissa's words echoed in her ears, the command to let go, to scream her name. And Hermione wanted to— needed to—obey.
Narcissa's free hand wrapped around the chains of the nipple clamps, tugging them sharply as her fingers thrust deeper inside Hermione, her pace quickening, her movements rough and unforgiving. "Don't hold back," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "I want to hear you."
The pain from the clamps shot through Hermione's chest, combining with the pleasure that pulsed through her core, and it was too much. Her body tightened around Narcissa's fingers, her muscles clenching as the orgasm ripped through her, blinding in its intensity.
"Narcissa!" Hermione screamed, her voice breaking as her entire body convulsed, her legs shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her hips bucked against the ropes, her back arching as she came, her body tightening and releasing with every thrust of Narcissa's fingers.
Narcissa's smile was one of pure satisfaction as she watched Hermione fall apart beneath her. Her fingers continued to move inside Hermione, thrusting deep and fast, prolonging the orgasm until Hermione's body was trembling uncontrollably, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.
"There it is," Narcissa purred, her voice thick with pride as she slowed her movements, her fingers still inside Hermione as she rode out the last waves of her release. "Such a good pet. Screaming my name just like you were told."
Hermione could barely respond, her body limp and trembling as the aftershocks of the orgasm left her utterly spent. Her mind was foggy, her breath uneven, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction in the way her body had responded to Narcissa's commands, in the way she had given herself over completely.
Narcissa withdrew her fingers slowly, deliberately, her touch gentle now as she moved to stand in front of Hermione, her hand cupping Hermione's chin and tilting her head up so their eyes met.
"You did well," Narcissa murmured, her voice softer now but still carrying that edge of command. "So obedient. So eager to please."
Hermione shivered slightly at Narcissa's words, her body still buzzing from the intensity of everything that had just happened. She looked up at Narcissa, her breathing steadying but her mind still hazy. Narcissa's gaze was sharp, but there was a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, a quiet pride that she rarely let show.
Hermione managed a small, breathless smile. "I aim to please."
Narcissa chuckled softly, the sound low and indulgent as she began to loosen the last of the ropes. "Oh, I know. Sometimes, I think you aim to be ruined."
Hermione's smile widened, the tension in the air beginning to ease as the ropes around her wrists finally fell away. Her muscles ached from the position she'd been held in, her skin still tingling from the sharp bite of the crop. But there was something comforting in the way Narcissa's hands moved over her now, unhurried and gentle.
"Well, if I'm going to be ruined by anyone…" Hermione let the sentence hang in the air, her tone playful despite the exhaustion creeping into her voice.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "Don't flatter yourself too much. I don't ruin what's useful."
Hermione snorted, leaning back slightly in the chair as she rubbed her wrists, feeling the lingering sting of the ropes. "You really do know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"
Narcissa didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stepped away to retrieve a soft cloth from the bedside table. She moved with a graceful, deliberate air, as though the intensity from before had melted into something quieter, softer.
"Turn around," Narcissa said, her voice calm as she walked back over to Hermione.
Hermione obeyed without question, her back now facing Narcissa as the older woman knelt behind her, dabbing the cloth gently over the marks left by the ropes and the crop. The cool, soothing touch of the cloth was a stark contrast to the heat and sharpness that had defined the evening, and Hermione let out a soft sigh of relief.
"I'm surprised you didn't use your wand," Hermione remarked, her voice lighter now, more casual. "Seems more your style—elegant, efficient."
Narcissa hummed softly in response, her fingers moving with delicate precision as she tended to Hermione's bruised skin. "Where's the fun in that? Magic is for when I'm feeling charitable. And you don't deserve my charity."
Hermione smiled at the familiar sharpness in Narcissa's tone, but it lacked its usual bite. This was just how they were with each other—sharp words, teasing banter, but underneath it all, something more comfortable, more intimate. Narcissa's hands, though firm, were careful, her touch light as she wiped away the evidence of their earlier intensity.
"Hmm," Hermione mused, glancing over her shoulder with a playful grin. "You sure you're not going soft on me?"
Narcissa's eyes flicked up, meeting Hermione's with an arched brow. "Soft? I could have left you tied up for hours, darling. You should be thanking me for my mercy."
Hermione chuckled, turning back to face the mirror. "I suppose I'll consider myself lucky, then."
"You should," Narcissa replied smoothly, her fingers trailing lightly over Hermione's bare shoulders as she leaned down, her breath warm against the back of Hermione's neck. "But I do have my limits, and you seem determined to test them."
Hermione's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of Narcissa's breath on her skin, a soft smile still lingering on her lips. "I think I live to test them."
Narcissa chuckled softly, her voice rich with amusement. "Careful what you wish for. You might not enjoy the consequences."
Hermione opened her eyes and met Narcissa's gaze in the mirror, her smile widening. "Oh, I think I would."
With a quiet hum of approval, Narcissa straightened up and moved around to stand in front of Hermione. She set the cloth aside, her hands now free as she reached down to take Hermione's hands in hers, her grip firm but gentle.
"Come on, up you go," Narcissa said softly, pulling Hermione to her feet with surprising ease. "You need to stretch before you seize up."
Hermione groaned softly as she stood, her muscles protesting the movement. "I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow."
Narcissa's lips curved into a smirk, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Good. You'll have plenty of time to reflect on your behavior."
Hermione laughed, the sound light and genuine as she rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly at the stiffness in her back. "I suppose I should be grateful, then."
Narcissa stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on Hermione's hips as she leaned in, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "Gratitude suits you," she murmured, her voice low and teasing.
Hermione's breath hitched slightly, her body still sensitive to every touch, every word. But this—this quiet, intimate moment after the storm—was something she cherished just as much as the intensity of their scenes together.
"Let's get you cleaned up properly," Narcissa said, pulling away slightly but keeping her hand on Hermione's back as she guided her toward the bathroom. "I won't have you falling apart before my eyes."
Hermione smiled, her body relaxing as she allowed herself to lean into Narcissa's touch, the aftercare as important as everything that had come before. "You know," Hermione began, her tone casual but affectionate, "for someone who claims not to care, you do a remarkable job of it."
Narcissa gave her a pointed look, her lips twitching into a small smile as they stepped into the bathroom. "I have my moments."