Pansy opened her eyes, taking in the sunlight streaming into the room as well as the feeling of the gentle lapping of her maid's tongue. She'd told the mudblood there was only one way to awaken her mistress, and Hermione was lightly flicking her tongue over Pansy's pussy lips. Of course, it would have been difficult for Hermione to fulfill those terms if Pansy hadn't been sleeping naked. Pansy stretched and considered whether there was any reason to get up. She glanced at her bedside table and saw the steaming cup of coffee Hermione had place there, as well as this morning's Daily Prophet.
There was no hurry. Pansy picked up the coffee and inhaled deeply while spreading her legs slightly. Just as expected, Hermione took that as an indication to start licking faster. Pansy couldn't keep a self-satisfied smile from forming on her face. Having such a well-trained mudblood servant was the only way to live—for purebloods like herself, of course. Both of them were simply in their natural places.
Pansy sipped her coffee, pleased that Hermione had added the perfect amount of cream and sugar. The mudblood's talented tongue was flicking over the places that she knew would pleasure her mistress the most. It was quickly getting to the point where Pansy had to put her coffee down and settle a hand possessively over her maid's head while running her fingers through Hermione's chestnut hair.
Pansy closed her eyes and let the waves of pleasure float through her. She was lucky really, to have a servant that was so obedient, so dedicated to serving her. Any other mudbloods could be made to do the same thing, largely; but they would be sullen or frightened, and either would have been enough to extinguish any desire Pansy might have felt around them.
After Pansy had done the early work of training Hermione, she'd suggested teasingly that the mudblood might soon be learning a different kind of service. Pansy had simply been curious how Hermione would react, expecting to see shock or disgust. But the definite blush that had filled Hermione's cheeks was very intriguing; and Pansy, who'd never go so far as to force a mudblood to have sex with her, had suddenly wondered if Hermione wanted it.
Her approaching orgasm once again proved how willing Hermione must be. She could't be this good otherwise, right? Pansy arched her back as she felt the electrifying heat spread out from her pussy. It rolled through Pansy's body and drove practically all thought from her head. What remained was the knowledge that her mudblood servant was an absolute treasure.
Conscious thought eventually returned to Pansy and she saw Hermione was now looking upwards at her mistress, her tongue flicking slowly and lightly now. As tempting as it was to settle in for another round, Pansy knew Hermione's tongue didn't have limitless endurance.
"I'm going to take a shower. After I eat breakfast, I'm going for a ride," Pansy said simply. That Hermione was to take care of all of these things did not need to be said.
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione said, inclining her head.
Hermione stood up from the bed and Pansy had a clear look at her. She was wearing the seemingly demure-looking, but form-fitting, black and white maid's outfit she always wore during the day—barring special occasions. Her hair was in its natural bushy state. Early on, Pansy had told her to use Sleekeasy's Hair Potion, but had since decided that Hermione's natural hair was fine.
Pansy's eyes drifted slightly downward and noted that Hermione was wearing her silver choker. It was formed like a snake coiling around her neck, with both ends fastened together to form a snake's head. Small emeralds glittered in the eye sockets. It was quite an expensive piece of jewelry for a mudblood, but Pansy felt Hermione deserved it. The choker marked her as having the relatively privileged position of being a favored servant to a pureblood family. Its presence would enable Hermione to lord it over her fellow mudbloods, but Pansy had detected no change in her manner. She was just as gracious and kind to everyone as before.
As Hermione turned around to leave, Pansy saw what made her outfit not as demure as it seemed from the front. It was altered to leave her exposed all the way down to the small of her back. Her black bra could be clearly seen there, but that wasn't what drew Pansy's eye. It was the intricate tattoo on her otherwise flawless skin. The Parkinson family crest had been painstakingly applied there. Seeing that always made Pansy smile. It was comforting, as if it somehow assured her that Hermione would always be hers.
After Hermione left, Pansy picked up the Daily Prophet and glanced at the front page. It was full of the usual propaganda pieces. The Dark Lord had long since determined what was allowed to be published in any newspaper. Stories about dangerous mudbloods that were rumored to have wands were always there, as well as muggles behaving stupidly and brutishly to each other. Pansy knew better than to take any of it at face value. It was simply smart to appear knowledgeable about the supposed issues.
A few minutes was enough time for Hermione to have turned on the shower and set the heat to the level she knew her mistress liked. Pansy got up from her bed and walked down the hall, naked as could be. Opening the bathroom door, Pansy felt the steam collecting in the room and went into the shower without pausing. Her trust that Hermione had set the temperature correctly was absolute.
Once again, Pansy felt that strange emotion as the water ran over her body. She would have said it was love, but loving a mudblood was not done. Everyone she knew would have been aghast at the thought. It must be gratitude for the excellent service she received, Pansy decided. That and desire. For the first time, Pansy wondered why she didn't have Hermione here washing her. That would certainly be entertaining. Ah well. Next time.
(What do you guys think?I love reviews! I may continue the story and go into more detail about Pansy and Hermione's relationship if there's any interest)