Day 15 – Mind Control / Imperio
Narcissa twirled her wand between her fingers, her eyes never leaving the kneeling woman in front of her. She might have once considered biting her lip in thought, but that habit had been bred out of her by her mother's Cruciatus curse. It wasn't the only curse her mother had used on them. It was part of the reason Narcissa was always so deliberate in her actions. She understood the weight of magic, the responsibility of control—especially when it came to the darkest spells.
Now, the youngest Black sister was contemplating another unforgivable curse.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked, her voice low but firm as she watched her wife kneeling, waiting.
Hermione's head tipped upward, her eyes locking onto Narcissa's with a steady, determined gaze. Despite the vulnerability of her position, Hermione had made her choice long before this moment. "Yes," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. There was no fear in her expression—only trust.
It was that trust that made this different from anything Narcissa had experienced before. The power dynamic between them was clear, but beneath it was a foundation of trust so strong it allowed for the possibility of something like this—something so intense, so dangerous.
Narcissa's lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as she circled Hermione slowly, the silk of her gown brushing lightly against Hermione as she moved. "Good," Narcissa murmured, her voice smooth and velvety, though there was a sharp edge of command behind it. "Then let's not waste time."
She came to a stop directly in front of the younger woman, tilting her head slightly as she raised her wand. The air in the room grew heavy, thick with anticipation, as Narcissa's gaze darkened, her magic beginning to pulse in the space between them.
"You know what's going to happen," Narcissa whispered, her voice low but filled with intent. "Once I cast this, you won't be able to stop yourself. You won't be able to speak, to fight. You will do everything I ask, everything I command, without question."
Hermione nodded, her throat dry, but there was no hesitation in her movements. She had agreed to this, had negotiated it carefully with Narcissa. The trust between them had been built over time, and now, she was ready to surrender completely. To give herself over to Narcissa in the most intimate way possible.
Narcissa watched her for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before she lifted her wand with a deliberate flick. Her voice, soft and commanding, filled the room as she spoke the incantation.
"Imperio."
The spell hit Hermione like a warm, gentle wave, washing over her and sinking into her mind with a sensation that was both soothing and all-consuming. Her thoughts slowed, her body relaxing completely as the magic took hold of her. The weight of her own will dissolved, leaving only Narcissa's presence, her control, filling the empty spaces in Hermione's mind.
Narcissa smiled, watching the change in Hermione's posture as the curse wrapped around her like a thick wool coat. "There you are," she murmured, stepping closer, her fingers trailing down Hermione's cheek with a feather-light touch. "So easy to control, isn't it?"
Hermione's lips parted, but no words came. There was nothing to say. She could feel the warmth of Narcissa's magic in her mind, shaping her thoughts, guiding her actions. It was overwhelming, but in the most perfect way. All she could do was submit.
The Minister of Magic no longer needed to think.
It was bliss,
"Stand," Narcissa commanded softly.
Hermione's body moved instantly, rising to her feet with fluid grace, her limbs light and free of tension. The sensation of moving without thought was surreal, but there was a comfort in it—a sense of release. She stood tall, her gaze steady but distant, her mind floating in the quiet peace of the spell.
Narcissa circled her slowly, her fingers tracing light, teasing patterns along Hermione's bare shoulders and down her back. "You're so beautiful like this," she murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Completely under my control."
The Gryffindor didn't react. Her body remained still, awaiting Narcissa's next command. There was no resistance, no hesitation. Only obedience.
"Take off the rest of your clothes," Narcissa ordered, her voice calm, almost casual. Like she was ordering another gown at Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.
Without a moment's pause, Hermione's hands moved to the waistband of her trousers, her fingers unbuttoning them with ease. She stepped out of them, her movements slow and graceful, then discarded her underwear, standing naked in the dim light of the room. There was no shame, no self-consciousness—only the calm certainty of knowing this was exactly what Narcissa wanted.
Narcissa watched her with darkened eyes, her gaze roaming over Hermione's body with a mixture of hunger and control. "Kneel again."
Hermione complied instantly, sinking back to her knees, her hands resting lightly on her thighs as she waited for Narcissa's next command. Her mind was quiet, her thoughts pliant, open to whatever the older witch's wants.
Narcissa leaned down, her fingers slipping beneath the Gryffindor's chin as she tilted her face upward once more. "Do you know why I love this?" she whispered, her breath warm against her wife's skin. "Because it's the one thing that makes you truly mine."
Hermione's eyes fluttered slightly, but there was no other sign of a response. Narcissa's magic filled her mind, and she knew instinctively that this was what Narcissa wanted—this was what she craved. Control. Complete, unyielding control.
"Now," Narcissa murmured, her voice low and commanding as she straightened. "Crawl to the bed."
Hermione's body obeyed without hesitation, her hands and knees moving across the floor as she made her way toward the bed. The cool stone felt distant against her skin, her mind still floating in the perfect stillness of the curse, her only focus on the sound of Narcissa's voice.
Narcissa followed behind her, her heels clicking softly on the floor as she moved with a graceful, predatory air. She reached the bed just as Hermione did, watching as the younger woman climbed onto it, her body positioning itself exactly as Narcissa had intended—kneeling, arms stretched out in front of her, waiting for instruction.
Narcissa stood at the foot of the bed, her wand still held lightly in her hand as she surveyed the scene in front of her. "You look so perfect like this," she said softly, her voice filled with a dark, possessive satisfaction. "So ready to be used."
The younger woman's body trembled slightly at the words, her pulse quickening involuntarily without the words registering in her calm mind. Narcissa's fingers trailed down the length of her wife's back, her touch light but firm as she leaned in closer. "You're mine now, Hermione," she whispered, her breath warm against Hermione's skin. "Completely and utterly mine."
Hermione's body quivered, the soft haze of the curse amplifying every sensation, every touch. She couldn't move on her own, couldn't do anything but wait for Narcissa to tell her what to do. And in the stillness of her mind, that was exactly what she wanted—to be guided, controlled, and used.
Narcissa's fingers found her center, tracing the slick heat of her folds with a feather light touch. "You're so wet," she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "So ready for me. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Hermione let out a soft, involuntary moan, her hips rocking gently as Narcissa's fingers continued their slow, torturous exploration. Narcissa's magic hummed in her mind, keeping her docile, open to every sensation, every command.
"I'm going to make you ride my fingers, darling," Narcissa whispered, her lips brushing against Hermione's ear. "And you're going to enjoy every second of it."
The younger woman's head nodded slightly, her body moving in perfect obedience to the command even before Narcissa had fully spoken the words. Her hips lowered slightly, her thighs parting further as she waited for the inevitable touch, for the pleasure that Narcissa was about to give her.
Narcissa's fingers slid inside her, two at first, pressing deep into her warmth. Hermione gasped softly, her body trembling as the sensation filled her completely. Narcissa's touch was firm but teasing, her fingers curling just enough to make Hermione's breath hitch again, her body instinctively responding to the pleasure.
"That's it," Narcissa murmured, her voice a soft purr as her free hand trailed up to Hermione's chest, her fingers brushing over her breasts, pinching lightly at her nipples. "I want you to ride my fingers, love. I want you to move for me."
Hermione's body responded instantly, her hips beginning to rock gently against Narcissa's hand, her mind still under the soothing haze of the curse. She would have blushed and been embarrassed had she not been under her wife's spell. Instead, she rode the petite fingers with abandon, her chest thrust forward, head tilted back.
Narcissa's fingers curled deeper inside her, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, making the young woman's body shudder with each movement. "You like that, don't you?" Narcissa whispered, her fingers pinching Hermione's nipples harder now, rolling them between her fingers until Hermione's moans grew louder, more desperate.
Hermione's hips moved faster, more eagerly as the pleasure built higher and higher. She couldn't stop herself, couldn't hold back the moans that escaped her lips, couldn't slow the frantic pace of her hips as she rode Narcissa's fingers with growing intensity.
"Tell me how it feels," the older witch commanded, her voice soft but filled with authority as her hand continued to play with Hermione's breasts, her nails grazing her skin lightly. "Tell me exactly how much you love this."
Hermione's voice came out breathless, her words spilling from her lips without hesitation. "I… I love it," she gasped, her breath ragged as her body trembled with pleasure. "It feels so good. So full. So perfect."
Narcissa smiled, pleased with the response. "That's right," she purred, her fingers moving faster inside Hermione, thrusting deeper, harder. "You love being filled by me, don't you? You love how my fingers feel inside you, stretching you, making you come undone."
Hermione's moans grew louder, her hips grinding harder against Narcissa's hand as the pleasure surged through her. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as Narcissa's words sank deeper into her mind, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
"I want you to come for me, Hermione," Narcissa whispered, her voice dark and sultry as her fingers thrust into her harder. "I want you to scream my name when you do."
Hermione's body tensed, her breath catching in her throat as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. She could feel the release hovering just out of reach, so close, so intense. Her body trembled violently as she rode Narcissa's fingers faster, her breath coming in desperate gasps.
"Come for me," Narcissa commanded, her voice sharp with authority.
Hermione's body shattered under the force of her orgasm, her muscles clenching around Narcissa's fingers as the pleasure tore through her, overwhelming her senses. She cried out, her voice hoarse and breathless as her body convulsed, her release crashing over her in powerful waves.
"Good girl," Narcissa whispered, her fingers still moving inside her, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure. "You did so well."
Hermione slumped forward, her body spent, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her. Narcissa's fingers slid out of her slowly, gently, and her hand moved to rest on Hermione's back, her touch soft, comforting.
"Now," Narcissa murmured, her voice still filled with satisfaction as she looked at the still cursed girl. "I think it's time you worship me with that tongue. I want to see how long you can go before your body gives out."