Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, nor do I profit by this work. I simply seek to enjoy the universe by re-imagining it in my own way. In addition, I'd just like to remind you all that this is a work of fiction, and that all scenes contained herein ought to be treated as such. Always gain partner consent before engaging in intercourse.
Hermione smiled as Rose Potter, one of her two closest friends, casually stripped down to her undergarments before her. The woman's black hair – untouched by the recurring curse of the Potters that left many of their family's hair eternally messy – fell in a neat waterfall of midnight down between her pale shoulder blades, caressing the cool skin there with the featherlight touch that only hair well cared-for could manage.
What remained after she stepped out of her shorts made Hermione tingle in the most delightful places. Black panties and bra against her skin contrasted so well it was as if the she had woven the fabric out of the night sky, though neither were the kind of cut that would suggest anything naughty or sensual. They were simple; Hermione simply felt that the rest of the ravenette's body made up for the fact. Rose had curves that blended lithe and feminine in the most perfect way – that of a dancer and a duelist, dangerous and beautiful.
Hermione's hands twitched with the knowledge that she would soon be allowed the most intimate of touches with her friend; Rose had asked her to give her a massage. It was the kind of offer that, even if Hermione had no plans to take advantage of the situation, she would be trembling with excitement for the easy opportunity to get up and close with her.
"If you're done staring," Rose commented, one dark eyebrow raised playfully, "then I'd like my massage now. Dueling practice was brutal today."
She laid down on the table Hermione had borrowed from her mom – who flitted back and forth between her job as a dentist and as a masseuse – and squirmed, making herself comfortable on the cool leather.
Rose knew Hermione was attracted to her. She knew that Hermione was also attracted to her sister, Jasmine, who was also Hermione's best friend. The pair had taken to teasing Hermione for her infatuation ever since they'd discovered it during their late Hogwarts years. It made Hermione even more eager for this activity; she'd finally get what she'd been craving for years by the day's end.
The brunette plucked a pair of headphones from a short table, plugging it into her music player she'd already preset for the occasion. "Put these on, Rose. They'll help you relax."
She took them from Hermione and set them around her ears. A simply sticking charm applied directly to the earphones kept them from sliding off when Rose rested her face in the depression of the table made for it. Hermione clicked play and smiled triumphantly as a tiny trickle of sound made its way past the sound-dampening headphones, too dampened to affect her like she knew it would Rose.
Rose tried to force her body to loosen up as she prepared for Hermione to work her magic on her protesting muscles. The day had been brutal by normal standards – Jasmine and Neville hadn't gone easily on her, and their combined efforts had seen her black and blue in several places before she'd used copious amounts of bruise-removal potion. She'd given as good as she'd got – Neville had a distinct limp from a particularly well-placed bludgeoning hex (he'd retaliated with a string of cutting curses when he realized that she had deliberately sent it just a few inches left of his delicate bits) and Jasmine had screeched furiously when Rose had severed two feet of her own luscious black hair from her head with one curse, before flinging some of the most vicious curses she could use at her giggling sister.
She groaned as she felt cool oil drip slowly onto the small of her back, the slick feeling delightful on the stiffening muscles. Hermione's hands – well trained by her mother from childhood – soon joined the oil, smoothly rubbing it into her skin and beginning to work some of the onerous knots out of her. The music Hermione had selected softly played through Rose's awareness as she let herself be swept away by the sweet sensations, broken only by the occasional recalcitrant knot that the brunette had to mercilessly work out.
Rose drifted. The music was slow and natural, matching Hermione's deliberate pace with its own rhythm until the ravenette's mind was lost to the bliss of just letting go for a little while. It was like floating on a cloud, far above her body while she watched from above as her friend caressed her body with reverence that made her flush on the inside. When Hermione moved up her back, between her shoulders, Rose only hummed permission as she asked whether she could unclasp her bra. She didn't want to get oil all over it.
Hermione's gut bloomed with the intoxicating feeling of triumph as Rose relaxed into her ministrations. While her massage was entirely normal – indeed, her mother had taught her how to reduce even the stiffest muscles into a pleasant pudding – the music she had chosen for her friend was of its own special variety; designed to lure the listener into a state of intense relaxation. Even though she'd hardly been listening for more than a minute, Hermione knew that her friend likely wasn't capable of forming any sort of rational thought right then. She could do whatever she wanted without worrying about her friend withdrawing into the teasing, enticing persona she and her sister had developed just for her.
But she knew it wasn't yet time to indulge in the vulnerable beauty that was currently purring quietly at her touch. As she unlatched the clasp of dark fabric that marred the beautiful pale skin of Rose's back, Hermione allowed herself one longing caress of the unbelievably smooth skin of Rose's shoulder before she delved back into her work. She chased down the kinks that kept Rose from fully succumbing to the blissful relaxation Hermione intended for her; she coated her skin with cool oil until it shone like pristine porcelain, even as the ravenette moaned quietly as she dripped even more on her.
Rose was in heaven as Hermione worked out the last knot in her shoulders, the feeling of utter relaxation that permeated her body as her divine fingers finally left her skin leaving her boneless and floating on a cloud of the softest, smoothest cotton. Rose couldn't have protested if she wanted to as Hermione slipped her panties down her legs; she couldn't even open her eyes as her mind drifted with the beguiling melody of the music. She couldn't think, and as her body melted further as Hermione began massaging her feet Rose felt like a precious vessel being attended by a loving, devoted acolyte, empty of all thought and intention but cherished and cared for with utmost attention.
Hermione's touch lingered over the curve of Rose's upper thighs, delighting in the sight of skin she seldom saw in the light of day. When she finally dripped oil over the luscious curve of Rose's ass, she reveled in the touch even as the warm glow in her stomach – already spread to her core so that she was aware of the silk of her panties as it rubbed her – as Rose lay still, completely docile under Hermione's ministrations.
When she had finished – a process that took Hermione several minutes longer than was probably necessary as she ensured that the muscles in Rose's ass were truly relaxed beyond a shadow of doubt – Hermione felt yet another wave of triumph as Rose obediently turned over on her front at her request despite her shameless nudity.
Rose didn't even register her lack of clothing. The music caressed her vacant thoughts so that everything else seemed of trivial concern. What did she care if Hermione saw her naked? She'd seen it dozens of times during their years as dorm-mates. As cool oil dripped below her collarbone, Rose sighed in pleasure as those warm hands began their work once again, reducing her body to a purring jelly.
Hermione tried not to look away from where her hands worked. She knew the temptation to take one of Rose's nipples – a gorgeous, perfect pink to match her name – in her mouth would be too enticing a prospect if she were to look at them too long. She knew that if she stared longer at the perfectly smooth, hairless mound between the ravenette's legs, it would be too much to resist sampling the undoubtedly mouth-watering feast she would find. It didn't matter that Rose would certainly not protest – Hermione knew from one look at the utterly tranquil look on her face, her friend would not protest if she decided to test her collection of sex-toys on her even should she use some of the more questionable of the lot. What mattered was that she finished this ritual – and it had become a ritual for her as she worshipped her friend's body – and completed her plan to lift the platonic veil that separated them.
Soon she ran out of luscious skin to work with, and Hermione finally allowed herself to stroke the curvy flesh of Rose's breasts, trailing fingers over the pert, firm flesh and coating it in the sweetly scented oil until they gleamed in the dim light like the rest of Rose's body. There was little muscle needing loosening in the delectable orbs for Hermione to tend to; she was simply indulging in a personal longing to take the edge off the mouthwatering sight of Rose's gleaming nudity.
Rose sightlessly stared ahead of her with lidded eyes, her mouth slightly open as she crooned her pleasure in quiet tones, unable to verbalize any sort of expression but simply allowing the animal part of her mind that reveled in the electrifying touch to vent its ecstasy to the quiet room. As Hermione's hands drifted lower, massaging the taught muscles of Rose's belly, the ravenette's eyes fell completely shut as the music filled her empty mind with the softest of whispers. Rose found herself listening acutely to the whispers. She found herself agreeing with their every instruction.
As Hermione's nimble fingers finally reached the upper reaches of Rose's delta – now glistening with the evidence of her arousal – Rose opened her legs to allow the brunette better access. She couldn't help but want to do anything in her power to service Hermione. She had brought Rose to this wonderful state of relaxation. She had given Rose the music that caressed and lovingly reshaped her mind. She knew without reservation that there was not a thing in the world she would deny Hermione, including whatever misplaced modesty that had convinced her to conceal her treasures from the beautiful academic. It felt so good to desire Hermione; to want to serve and devote herself to her, like snuggling under a soft, toasty blanket on a frigid winters day.
Hermione couldn't help but croon as she looked at Rose's face, so peaceful and rapturous as her music developed the devotion her friend would feel for her from this day on. The ravenette, so entrapped in her web of relaxation and subliminal instructions, couldn't escape if she wanted to. Her vulnerable mind was now being molded by the relentless rhythm of Hermione's music, enlightening her to the truths that would become pillars to her understanding of the world.
Her touch on Rose's dewy nether lips sent warm blooms through both women, Hermione's core burning with desire as she abandoned all pretense of the massage and simply allowed herself to play and toy with the tender flesh under her fingers, while Rose mewled like a kitten, body shivering as if to squirm with the pleasurable feelings but so utterly entranced that her muscles would not obey her desire. Her vacant thoughts knew only the glorious music – the teacher and guide to true nirvana and happiness – and Hermione's touch on her body.
Hermione knew that it was time. "Rose," she said firmly, her voice quivering with uncontained glee, "you will submit to my commands."
The glistening woman sighed happily as her words sank into her consciousness, settling into her being with all the authority of God himself. "I will, Hermione," Rose said in a monotone, her blissful expression at odds with the dearth of expression she could impart in her voice.
"Sit up," Hermione ordered, stepping back to allow Rose some space and withdrawing her fingers from the woman's sex disappointedly.
The woman dutifully obeyed, sitting erectly with her hands folded in her lap and face looking ahead, void of expression with eyes unnaturally wide. The headphones stayed firmly attached to her head, still feeding her receptive mind an endlessly repeating mantra of obedience and happiness. Hermione smiled and removed the headphones, feeling another bloom of triumph as Rose's condition remained unchanged.
She didn't need the headphones any more to hear the music. It was a part of her, eternally caressing her thoughts and reminding her of her true purpose in life.
Without the large object on her head, Rose's hair fell unrestricted down her back and over her shoulders, blackest ebony tresses against her gleaming ivory skin making Hermione involuntarily whimper with need. She reached out with a sudden blazing craving for Rose's skin and body, hands touching and stroking and kneading flesh as Rose mewled and whined under her touch, needing Hermione as much as the brunette needed her as the music in her soul demanded she please her mistress in every way she could.
Oil stained Hermione's clothes as they coupled on the leather massage bench. Rose ground her pelvis on Hermione's as the brunette wrapped her arms around Rose, hands hungrily rubbing her achingly soft and smooth back, fingers tracing up Rose's spine making the ravenette gasp and arch into Hermione, eyes wide with incomprehensible pleasure.
Rose was unable to voice her pleasure, her thoughts so completely consumed by animal desire and the touch of bliss that was Hermione's song that she could only vocalize with visceral cries and whimpers. Hermione made up for Rose's lack of speech by whispering sweet commands of pleasure and instruction to her friend and servant, her lips gleaming with oil and nectar collected from Rose's convulsing body as she sobbed with her orgasmic release.
A whispered command sent Rose staggering to the nearby couch, still trembling with pleasurable convulsions so that her flesh quivered and jiggled in ways that made Hermione's nether regions drool wantonly.
As Rose spread herself on the couch, seductive as a demoness and yet as innocent as a newborn kitten as her eyes, innocent of anything save for unblemished subservience, juxtaposed the lewd spread of her limbs and body on the soft surface. She was gorgeous, and Hermione burned for her as she dumbly struggled with clothes that had suddenly become onerous and restricting.
The brunette pounced on her friend as soon as she wrestled the last article from her flesh, the slick union of their bodies a blissful tribute to their newly-depraved bond. Hot flesh slid against slippery, luscious skin as lips and tongues tangled and consumed each other in a desperate race to nirvana.
When Rose came, it was at Hermione's panting, heated command. The ravenette came apart with a high pitched keen, eyes wide and unseeing of the world outside of the flushed visage of her mistress and goddess. Rose thrashed against Hermione's body, her release so violent and all-consuming that even the music ceased in her mind and even the vacancy of her mind was forgotten as she consecrated herself on the altar of her mistress's body.
Hermione came apart as she watched Rose so completely give herself to her, all of her fantasies and desires coming to fruition in one sweet moment of apotheosis.
They languished on the high of their activities for several minutes, a tangled mess of limbs and gleaming skin breathing softly in the silence of the room, sweet kisses and cat-like tasting of salty skin becoming their only activity as they recovered.
Rose cooed happily as Hermione praised her, her wide eyes filled with utter joy as the brunette's words filled her with warmth unmatched by anything else. Hermione's last command, though, finally made a change in the soft vacancy of Rose's thoughts.
"Rose, come back to me. Come out of the trance," Hermione said quietly into the crook of her friend's neck.
Sentience came back to Rose in a soothing rush, the empty vessel of her mind filling with thought like a soothing stream of warm water. She felt full and languid and smiled blissfully as her thoughts reconciled with her new purpose in life.
Rose snuggled closer to Hermione, who sighed in relief as she realized her dubious induction of her friend wouldn't come to backfire on her.
Into Hermione's hair, Rose asked quietly, "When will you take Jasmine?"
Hermione considered the question. "Will you help me?"
"Of course, Hermione."
"Soon."
Hmm. Another story to begin! This one was very fun to write - I love induction stories in a way that very few other erotica genres can inspire in me. There's something so insidiously delectable about hypnosis and the reshaping of an entrapped mind that really tickles the sweet spot in me. I hope you enjoy this, and please stay tuned for the next chapter!
Please also leave reviews, as they give me the inspiration and drive to write faster. I've been on hiatus for a while, but it's summer now and I have the time to devote to writing like I haven't in a while!
-Valasania the Pale