HPOV

"Remus? Sirius? I'm home!" As there's no reply from either of them, I assume that they aren't, and go into the kitchen, dropping my bag in the living room en-route. I put the kettle on, and run upstairs, intending to change out of my work clothes and into something much more comfortable. But partway down the corridor to my room, I pass the entrance to the corridor with Sirius's room off it, and notice something very odd. The door at the end of the passageway, the door that's always warded and locked, is now standing open. Light is coming from it. As this is really very odd - not once, in all my five years here, has that door been open - I go down the corridor towards it, intending to quickly investigate to make sure nothing is wrong and that we haven't be burgled or anything like that.

It takes me a while to realise what it is I'm looking at. But of course, it kicks in, and I take in the details of one of the most tasteful, sexual playrooms I've ever stood in. In contrast to the dark cherry wood I've always seen, this one is mostly pine, oak, and fawn leather. A large window hung with lace curtains admits natural light, and the corners of the room are illuminated with Muggle lamps with red glass shades. The St Andrew's cross is stained a little darker, but is made of light pine, making the shackles at each corner a glorious contrast. A large glass-fronted cabinet contains toys, whips, a flogger, and a riding crop, while a chest of drawers beside it arouses more than just my curiosity. The lust is burning strong in my veins, and I can feel my panties getting damp. Jesus. I had no idea that either of them were into this scene, and here one or both of them has a secret playroom in the house. The bed is simple and iron framed, the sheets pale silk, the swing above it pale leather. At the foot of the bed, taking up the rest of that wall, is a pile of fat cushions, two set a little forward of the others. In the corner opposite the cross, there is a curtain running from the entrance that intrudes into the room, stopping it from being perfectly square, and I desperately want to know what's behind it. The padded bench shares the pale leather of the swing above the bed, and I go over to it, run my fingers over it, feeling the silken smoothness of it. I can imagine what that would feel like against my breasts, if I were bent over it, ready and waiting - God. Heat pools in my belly, and I struggle with it for a moment, determined not to gasp or cry out with the force of it. The voice behind me makes me jolt so badly I actually need to hold the bench for some support. I spin round and come face to face with both of them. We all stare at each other, them frank and open, and me confused - I'm not sure which one of them I should apologise to. Then, in the same moment that I notice that Remus is wearing a thick strip of leather about his neck, he crosses the room swiftly, and kneels on one of the cushions, folding his arms at his back and casting his eyes down. I turn immediately to Sirius, and kneel at once.

"My apologies, Sir, for entering your playroom without permission."

"You can get up, Hermione." I do so, keep my eyes cast down, although my head stays up and my back straight. "You know about playrooms, and the proper procedures in them."

"Yes Sir, I do."

"That's something you and I will discuss. For today, now, you have a choice. You can choose, willingly, to go over and kneel beside Remus. That I'll take as permission and consent regarding these activities. Or you may sit on a cushion by the door, and just observe. Or you can walk out, and we need never discuss it." As if I'd just walk out of here. I've been looking for months, trying to find a new Dominant, and now I think of it, Sirius is a logical choice. I know and trust him, and clearly he has experience. But what to do? "It's an entirely free choice, Hermione. And it will have no effect on any agreement we may come to later." I make my choice.

"I'll sit here by the door, for today, Sir." In those two words, I make my intentions very clear - for today, I sit, but soon enough, I'll kneel. He nods, and gestures. Remus appears silently, handing him a cushion, which he hands to me while Remus returns to his kneeling position over at the cushions. "Thank you, Sir." I put the cushion on the floor, but stand uncertainly for a moment. The skirt I'm wearing is damn restrictive, and I'm a million miles from being comfortable or even able to get onto the floor.

"Hermione, what is it? You may speak freely."

"Sir, if you would permit it, I would like to change. I can't get onto the floor wearing this skirt." He considers, his head slightly to one side.

"Very well. I will come with you, chose an outfit. Pet," he says, turning his head to address Remus. "Undress, put your clothes in the chest, wait for us to return." Remus nods, but doesn't speak, and Sirius takes me outside. I open my lips to speak, but he stops me. "Don't talk now, Hermione. In fact, you're not to speak until I say you may. Do you understand?" I nod, and he smiles. We go into my room, and he opens my drawers. I'm not embarrassed by him going through my clothes - we've all been mixing laundry for so long, he's already seen all my undies - or most of them, anyway. He picks out my soft yoga pants, a red vest top. "Change." He makes no move to leave, and I hesitate a little. "Now, Hermione." He is smirking dangerously. So, seeing no option, and not really wanting one, I unbutton my blouse swiftly, making no attempt to turn away from him. I don't exactly stand head on and do a striptease, but I don't turn my back, pulling the vest top over my head and then wrestling with the zip of my skirt. Either he notices it's stuck or he just wants to come over and help, but either way those clever hands are manipulating my zip and pulling it down, trailing his knuckles after it. I sit on the edge of my bed and roll my stockings off - typical, this would be the day I could find any unladdered tights and had to wear hold-ups instead. I pull on the yoga pants, and stand ready, eyes down, hands loose at my side. "Are you more comfortable now?" I nod again, remembering his order that I wasn't to talk. He nods approvingly and cups my cheek in his hand. I lean into his palm, and his smile becomes positively wicked. "Oh, Hermione. It'll be wonderful," he says, voice laden with promise. I follow him back down the corridor, and he ushers me in ahead of him, closing the door behind him. I sit on my cushion, crossing my legs, resting my hands palm up on my knees and keeping my back straight. When he walks past me, keeping his back to me as he lazily crosses to a now naked Remus, follow his progress hungrily. I watch them both closely, seeing now little clues and signs that they use everyday, noticing their attitude towards each other.

Remus doesn't look up as Sirius approaches him, but his head is not directed to the floor. Only his eyes are downcast, long lashes fluttering. I focus on Sirius, watching his approach to Remus - slow, unhurried. There is something almost languid about his movements, something lazy and uncaring. As if the length of time Remus waits is of little or no consequence - which, of course, it isn't. This is the playroom: in here, Sirius is lord and master. Remus could wait forever if Sirius wants him to. I don't get the impression he does, as he goes right to him, instead of detouring to the cabinet. Sirius drops onto the end of the bed, perhaps a foot away from Remus, and he lounges there. He beckons to Remus, orders him to come to him very lazily. Remus immediately drops onto his hands, crawls to Sirius, watching him now, his eyes hooded with desire. I can see Remus in profile now, but Sirius is far more visible. He runs a hand through Remus' hair, smiles down at him sweetly.

"Are you ready, my pet?"

"Yes, Master," Remus replies, softly. He's collared, so he says Master whereas I say Sir. I wonder how long he's been collared, and if Sirius was his first Dom.

"Good. Now, tell me something. Does it excite you to know Hermione's watching us? To know that that brilliant little mind of hers is asking all sorts of questions?"

"Yes, Master." I angle myself a little, and see that he's already hard. I swallow. I never knew that it'd arouse me so wildly to see him naked. But I know better than to touch myself unpermitted, so I press my thighs together and try not to squirm too much. I need friction, I need it big time. And they haven't even done anything yet.

"We should do her a favour, don't you think? Do you want her to have a good show? All those back rubs you've given her, pet, do you think she's ever imagined that happening without the clothes getting in the way? All those back rubs she's given you - I wonder what that would be like to witness if you were both naked." Remus hisses through his teeth. God, Sirius has a dazzlingly sexy voice when he's like this, all domineering and dark. I swallow again. Sirius stands, tells Remus he should go to the padded bench, and stand facing it. Remus obeys, crawling over to the bench, then getting onto his feet. He does not look at me, and after I scan him once, I return all my attentions to Sirius. He's standing at the glass fronted cabinet, opening various drawers. He takes out some items, opens the glass doors and withdraws a flogger. Jesus. Remus is very careful not to look around as Sirius deposits his items on the ground as I get a look at them. A silver plug - no prizes for guessing where he's going to put that, I think - a glass jar, and the flogger, of course. "Bend forward, my pet." Remus obviously knows this command, and positions his legs by the shackles, leaning forward so his arms are stretched out. This is not a bench like I am familiar with. The benches I've seen and used always support only the torso and stomach, leaving the arms and legs to reach down to the corners and be shackled that way. This bench is long enough for Remus to lie across it and have his arms above his head, also resting on the bench, and the shackles are on the top of the bench. It's also narrower than regular benches, barely wide enough to take Remus comfortably. When Sirius chains him, I have to bite down on my lip hard. Barely ten minutes ago, I was imagining what that leather would feel like if I were chained like that, naked and aroused, what the cool leather would feel like if it were pressed against hot skin and my nipples, if I could squirm against it and feel it's smoothness, and now Remus is tied there, and I want to feel what I know he can feel. I should have knelt down on that damn cushion. It's a serious struggle now not to lose my composure and break all the rules. Sirius is still clothed, and seeing the contrast as he bends over Remus and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss between his shoulder blades, I grit my teeth too late, and a sound of desperation escapes from me. If Sirius hears it, he doesn't acknowledge it or the tension I see run briefly through Remus. He's covering his back in hot kisses, but when he gets to the small of Remus' back, he stops and straightens, walking around so he's at Remus's head. The bench is exactly the right height and width for Sirius to stand astride it comfortably.

"Look at me, my pet," he orders, and his voice is heavy with desire. I can hear it, see it in the tell-tale bulge in his jeans, and when Remus's eyes wander from his face down, I know he sees it too. He bites his lip, and Sirius's chuckle is dark and hot. I can't breathe, and I'm uncomfortably aroused. My hands clench into fists on my knees, and I force myself to go tense. Unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly with almost tantalising slowness, Sirius pulls himself out. I nearly lunge forward on the spot - with the sole exception of Remus, I've never seen anything I've wanted so much. I want that cock in my mouth, I want to have my hands on it, I want him to make me beg to be allowed to do that. I want him to force me to my knees and stroke my lips with the tip, let me taste him, let me come so close but still be denied it, I want him to tell me to open my mouth and let him fuck my mouth. I stare at them both through a heady haze, my eyelids heavy with desire. Sirius holds centimetres from Remus's open and willing mouth, and he in turn is pressing forward, a quiet moan falling from his lips as the movements brings his hips - and his now painful-looking erection - into contact with the leather. "Do you want my cock, pet?"

"Yes, Master!"

"Tell me what you want."

"I want to suck your cock, Master." Sirius groans, and moves forward. Remus captures him in his mouth with a willing moan, and Sirius puts his hands either side of his head, and leans into it with a groan. The noise of pleasure and the sight of Remus sucking so eagerly on that beautiful cock is the finishing stroke. This time, they both hear my moan of frustrated arousal, and Sirius snaps his head to look at me. I stare back, desperately aroused, needing something, anything. He pulls himself from Remus's mouth, leaves the bench and crouches beside him so he's eyelevel with him.

"I think Hermione's turned on by this. Do you think she's wet for us, seeing me humiliate you like this? I wonder if she'd like to see me flog you and have you count the strokes?" Remus groans, drops his head onto the leather. His shoulders heave as he gasps. "Answer me, slut!" The command is accompanied by a sharp spank, and Remus grunts.

"Yes, Master. I think she'd like to see me flogged. I think she's so wet it's making her panties damp." They're discussing me as if I'm not even in the room. It just makes it all the hotter.

"Hmm, I think she is too. Well, then, that's what we'll do. Make sure you keep count, pet. I'm going to give ten, but each time you lose count or miss one, we'll start again." Remus acknowledges this and Sirius stands, collecting the flogger from the floor. He takes stance on the far side of Remus - he hasn't removed or donned his trousers again, and his hard-on is still visible. The first stroke lands, and Remus slams his hips forward, pressing back immediately.

"One!" The next stroke comes, and I lean forward, almost feeling it on my own skin, wanting to feel it on my own skin. "Two!" It's over quickly, Remus keeping count although the ten is forced and sounds like it's being ripped from him. I watch, transfixed as Sirius picks up the silver plug from the floor, walks to Remus's head.

"Open your mouth, whore." The command is obeyed immediately, eagerly, wantonly, and the silver plug slides between swollen pink lips. "Keep it, get it wet." Remus nods, holding the plug in his mouth, only the base glinting between his lips, now stretched open. Sirius still doesn't look at me, but I meet Remus's eyes briefly, and I imagine the lust burning in his eyes is equal to the arousal raging through my own body. When he drops a muffled grunt around the plug in his mouth, I realise Sirius has opened the jar and inserted a finger into Remus. Fuck, fuck, I need release, I need friction, I need to be touched. I feel like I'm on fire, blushes of heat tearing through me. Sirius completes the prep, then slides the plug out of Remus's mouth, taking it and teasing against his entrance until Remus presses back and begs. He's obliged, and hisses. The cuffs at his wrists are released, and he pulls his arms in, stretching out the tension. The movement must do something, because he hisses and bucks. Sirius chuckles again. Summoning the cushions, Sirius remains standing, and releases the ankle shackles too. Remus makes no move to stand, waiting for orders, which come quickly. "Undress me, pet." Remus straightens, turns to Sirius, and takes the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. He yanks down his jeans, and Sirius steps out of them, kicking them aside. He orders Remus onto his knees. "Get on your hands and knees, show Hermione that plug in your whore ass. Make sure she can see it." Remus obeys at once, leaning forward to rest his chest on his arms and arching his back. He's spread out before me like some delectable dish, all ready to be tasted. How I want to taste him. But I made my choice, I chose to sit out, and now I just have to face that choice.

But to my surprise, Sirius leaves Remus on the floor by the cushions, and he approaches me.

"You want to touch yourself, don't you Hermione?" I'm still meant to be silent, he's not yet given me leave to speak. "You can answer all my questions, Hermione."

"Yes, Sir, please, I -"

"Enough. Tell me, Hermione, does it turn you on to see Remus like this? Spread out in front of you, entirely mine, mine to do with as I wish, to use and humiliate as I please?"

"Yes, Sir," I breathe, staring at Remus. Sirius slants himself, and a hand reaches out. He takes my chin in his thumb and forefinger, tilts my head to him.

"Strip," he orders, staring at me. "Stand up, and strip." I jump up at once, struggling out of my clothes. When I'm naked before him, I make to sit again, but he stops me. One long hand circles my throat, trails down, cups a breast before drifting on, before stopping at my core and cupping around my sex. I gasp helplessly, buck into his hand. "Uh-huh, you naughty, wanton little slut," he growls. "Don't move. You chose not to be involved." He withdraws his hand, raises it up, letting me see how his fingers are glistening in the light. "My God, you slut, you're dripping wet. Would you like to be allowed to touch yourself when I fuck Remus?"

"Yes, Sir!" I half-gasp the words, clenching my hands at my back to stop myself reaching out to him, taking that glorious cock into my hand and just feasting. He pushes me to my knees.

"When I start fucking him, and not before, you may touch yourself."

"Thank you, Sir." He nods, and goes back over to Remus. The evidence of my arousal is still on his fingers, and keeping eye contact with me, he drops to sit on the cushions and extends that hand to Remus.

"You were right, pet, she's positively dripping with lust for us. Do you want to taste?"

"Master, please -" Sirius chuckles and lets Remus suck his fingers into his mouth and clean them.

"How'd she taste, pet?" My belly tightens, and I think I'm on the verge of having my first ever non-contact orgasm. If I wasn't already on my knees, I think Remus's reply could have brought me to them.

"Exquisite, Master." When Sirius leans forward, capturing Remus's lips in his, I know he'll taste me there, and that knowledge makes me gasp.

"Hmmm, so she does. Did you hear me tell her that she can't touch herself until I fuck you? How long shall we make her wait?"

"Please, Master, I - I don't want to wait. I want you to fuck me."

"Ah, he's always so eager - my little slut. Of course, you don't want him to wait either, do you, Hermione?"

"No, Sir." There's a vague part of my mind that's saying I shouldn't be so damn eager for this, that I should have at least pretended to hedge my bets for a while. Instead I'm on the floor of his playroom desperately rubbing my thighs together to get some friction and gasping for air as I try and stop myself touching myself. Sirius stands again, looking down at Remus, who's still at his feet, still in the position showing me the plug Sirius put in, which is still glinting in the light. Sirius wraps his hand around his cock, strokes lazily, watching me.

"I could just toss myself off here, now, leave you both hanging. Fuck. You both look so damn sweet, so damn wanton. It's all I need, I could come now, and I could just leave you both." The frustrated sound leaves my lips because I know it can't come from Remus. I'm going to go mad, I can feel it. I need release, I need it desperately. Certainly, if he did leave us hanging, I could get it later that night, but I'm not even sure I'd be able to get up and walk out. Every limb is pounding, heat turning into fire in my belly, and I can feel the slick wetness gathering on my thighs. Remus's arms are shaking, he's struggling to support himself now. Sirius has succeeded in reducing us both to helpless, shaking wrecks, and he's barely done a thing. I imagine what this would be like if he'd made it a serious, intensive session and a shudder rips through me. I'm not sure I'd still be able to sit up. He's still standing, still stroking his cock with long, lazy touches, still staring at me. He walks, suddenly and without saying anything, dropping to his knees behind Remus, withdrawing the plug. I know what's next, I know it and I let my hand drift. As Sirius slides home inside Remus, drawing a groan from himself and a long, drawn-out hiss of pleasure from Remus, my hand finds it's way between my legs, finds the nub and I rub gently, then increase my speed. From the erratic thrusting of Sirius's hips, and the gripping of Remus's hand on the cushions, I'd say none of us will last long, and I can already feel my orgasm building. I come before them, needing only a few touches to my clit before I'm gasping for air, that hot gasp-gasp-gasp for breath as I clutch wildly.

Through a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, I vaguely become aware that both men have come, that Sirius is hunched over Remus like he's trapping him with his limbs, and the evidence of Remus's climax is on the wooden floor, glistening.

"Hermione," Sirius says, without moving from Remus, without looking up, his voice off-hand. "Pick up your clothes, go and wait for me in my study. Dress, I'll be along in a minute." Shakily, trusting myself not to fall over, I stand, gather my clothes together, and take myself out of the room. I go to his study, I dress - and I can still feel the throb of my orgasm. The most intense experience of my life, and I wasn't even involved. My God. I don't think I'm ever going to regain all the feeling in my legs. All I can think is that I want and need to be in that playroom as a participant, as soon as humanely possible.

As soon as I regain the feeling in my legs.