Hermione's POV

Hermione Granger's blood boiled from the moment she locked eyes with her silver-haired alumni. Out of all the people to book a blocked appointment, the ones who could even pay for her time, this was not anybody that she expected or wanted. It was purely instinct to try to slam the door in his face; Madam Eleanor could throw a tantrum all she wanted, Hermione would always be the Head Mistress of the Chateau and her word was final. When his hand extended with a bag of galleons though, her rate and then some, it definitely did peak her interest.

It had truly been years since she locked eyes with Malfoy. His hair was less stark-white against his skin, instead a light blond. He had definitely filled out from the weasley kid she last saw upon leaving Hogwarts, towering over her with broad shoulders and a lean physique. The sneer was still there though, even when he tried to reason with her to allow him to stay for a session. Seemed things like that didn't change. What game is he playing? She thought to herself, letting her grip on the wand slacken slightly. The thought, however probable, was enough to ignite her body. He could never try to break her or humiliate her once his feet crossed the threshold of Room 13.

"There's a chair on the back corner. You will strip and remain there until I say otherwise. Say a fucking word and you will regret it."

Her voice exhumed authority, something she had grown fond as the time she spent at the Chateau had flown by. It was almost a growl from the Lioness, and she could see Draco almost instinctively flinched. She was more than surprised when he didn't not try to question her authority, but rather obeyed. Interesting; a long con, she guessed. Her finger pointed to a chair bolted to the ground, a long mirror set up so that it's occupant may see what was being done to them. With minimal hesitance, he closed the door behind him and began to disrobe. First, the fine wool cloak. Then the dress shirt, his pants, everything until he was stripped down to only his briefs.

"I said strip. Not undress."

Malfoy shot her an incredulous look, one she made note of as she idly stroked the wip that hung against her muscular thighs. Nonetheless, his slim fingers began to tug the elastic down, stepping out of the cotton material one foot at a time. It wasn't uncommon for first timers to be hard coming into their session, though she hadn't truly expected for his erection to spring free from the material as quickly as it had. His pale cheeks began to flush, and he padded to the cold metal chair before taking a seat. Hermione's heels clicked as she padded to the opposite end of the room, twisting the dial on a powder blue egg-timer and grabbing the large bag that rested on the floor beside it before returning to the chair. In it were her essentials, the things she started each session with; consistency at the beginning was key with these things. It always kept her clients on their toes.

Her hands dipped into the bag, fingers wrapping around a thick band of leather material. It was a black collar, the O-ring on the front polished and firm to keep the pieces together, a familiar feeling in her palms. Her gaze met his in the mirror, and he held it, the Malfoy defiance beginning to seep into his features. It pissed her off. Badly. Now was not the time to lose her temper though, and she took her time approaching him from behind, dragging her fingertips across his shoulder blade. The skin flushed in response, goose-bumps trailing from his spine to the nape of his neck. "This is going to be your collar for tonight. You will not try to take it off. Once it is on, you belong fully to me and will submit as so. Is that understood?".

Draco took that bait easily, simply nodding. That was never sufficient. Her slim fingers snaked under his neck, grasping his jaw hard enough for the nail to create indectures in his skin as she held him to face her reflection. "The answer is 'yes ma'am", she whispered darkly into his ear, leaving a nip on the lobe, "though 'yes, mistress' is preferred. Is that understood?" His body reacted so easily, though she could tell the pride that seemed to seep into his bones. "Yes, mistress", he hissed out in response, eyes narrowing as he fought to free himself from her grip. Her touch didn't leave for long, as in an instant, she was beginning to buckle the collar around his throat.

The leather was wide, wide enough to cover his Adam's apple and pass to just a few inches above his clavicle. She tightened the strap a bit tighter than usual, there was a sweet spot between too tight and tight enough for her and she would make sure it was uncomfortable for this particular client. Draco's hands looked like they were itching to rip the material away, and she silently wished for him to make some move of defiance that she could react to. Instead, she saw his fingernails deep into his palms. His cock was already beginning to show a bead of pre-cum, desperate for some sort of touch that it wouldn't find any time soon.

Next, she produced the blind fold, a matching leather with a thick line of padding along the inside. A matching buckle, this time with a "J" etched along the inner border. "This will be your blindfold. At any point during this session, you may be blindfolded. I do not want to hear a peep out of you unless it is to say the safeword." She tucked the leather garment into the band of her tight black underwear, allowing it to brush against the skin of her outer thigh.

"Tonight, you can expect to be spanked, humiliated, and fucked. You will give yourself over to me and become my personal slave for the next hour. Do you understand that?" Her curls snaked over his shoulders as she leaned above him, nails trailing down the bare skin of his arms. His expression remained unchanged, but his body was an easy tell. "Yes, Mistress," he replied in a hushed, meticulous tone. A vein in his neck bulged slightly, either from arousal, anger, or both. She let a small laugh leave her lips. "Look at you, all hard and leaking from just a little instruction. Absolutely pitiful, weasel," Hermione taunted, allowing a nail to press into him. Draco simply glared, though held his tongue.

"As I'm sure you can see, there is a frame to the left of this chair. Stand up and walk to it. You will wait for me to position you. If I even think that you're touching your cock, I swear to God the frame will be easy for you." As he went to stand, she took the opportunity to land a swift crack to the skin of his ass, the skin singing under the swing of her palm. Malfoy gasped, scooting away from the sudden sting. "Fuck!" Swearing was never allowed like that in her dungeon. It could slide, for now. "Did I fucking say stop? Go. Now," she barked. He fell in line, though she could see that he wanted to rub the already welting mark against his body.

The A-frame was just large enough for his arms to have some clearance, though he was nearly too tall for it to keep them pinned where she wanted them. The iron frame was custom though, and even the cuffs at the top were sturdy enough to keep the lankier clients elevated. Draco stood underneath them, eying each run and set of cuffs that correlated with them. "Hands up", she ordered, landing another slap on the other side of his bum. He didn't curse this time, but his hips ducked away from her before she could land another smack. She took this time to jerk his right arm up, balancing on the base of the frame to strap the material tight around his wrist. She repeated the process, leaving him suspended with his feet flat against the cool ground.

Hermione took this time to admire her work, staring at Draco like a piece of prey. He looked so pathetic standing like this, so weak. His arms strained slightly as he tested the cuffs, a look of panic spreading across his features as he writhed within the restraints. She didn't give him a warning before reaching up to secure the mask over his grey eyes, jerking hard against the frame. "You don't have the privilege yet to watch me do this to you. By the end, I'll bet I'll have you begging to see me treat you like the bitch you are." Flush peeked beneath the leather, his chest beginning to show a similar splotchy pink. She let her fingers trail down his chest, slowly sliding them across his hips and down to his cock, stroking it twice before stepping away. "Remember that."

Now was the fun part, the build up that really excited her. The boots were nearly menacing sweeping across the tile, and she walked heavily to emphasize them. As much as she itched to use the cat-o-nine tails, to let the material swipe across his skin, it wasn't one to start off with. No, a riding crop would deliver the right amount of sting to start, and she picked one of her older models from the wall. Crack. The sound of her striking the calf of her boot split with the crop rang through the air, her former classmate jumping at the sudden sound. When the heels finally met the back of the frame, she could sense his anticipation, almost smell that fear. It was made even more evident when she traced the tip of it up to his hip, the hide rubbing small circles on the flesh on each side.

"Angel said you weren't very good at following directions, so let's see if you can follow these: I am going whip you. You are going to count after each strike, ending with 10. If you even miss one, we start over. Do you understand, Weasel?" she purred, lightly tapping the leather along his outer thigh. An audible gulp. "Yes, Mistress".

o-o-o-o

Draco's POV

Fear was what was sending him forward, from keeping the retorts from flying out of his mouth. At the first mention of him being pitiful, he nearly slung an insult directly back at her. This was not the path to making amends, and he thought twice before doing so. The fear became more evident when the dark material began to wrap around his throat, digging into the follow of his throat and keeping his chin nearly jutted outward. It rang when he was beckoned to the A-frame, when his skin stung from the sudden strike. It began to envelope him when the blindfold was placed over his eyes, when his world went dark. Almost everything in him screamed to struggle, to flee. But a small part of him was anticipating the next move, his cock harder than it had been in years.

Her words seemed to weave something into him, both comforting and dangerous. They certainly did not prepare him for the splitting pain of the crop hitting his right ass cheek. A groan left his lips, and he yanked hard against the cuffs to squeeze away from the pain. "Shit!" He yelped, legs frantically twisting to get away from him. A boot on his toes pinned them in place, and he felt Hermione's soft hair brush against his chest as she ducked under his arm to pivot in front of him. "Tsk tsk, Malfoy. I thought you were good at arithmetic." His toes were crushed, threatening to crack if he struggled. "I don't want to see you try to wriggle away so fast". Cool touch pried one ankle to the bottom of the frame, securing it with a set of iron cuffs. His other foot was pried to the opposite side, leaving him spread out on display within the confines of the frame.

"Let's try this again," the whip crashed against the mark that it had previously left, and white hot pain shot through him. "One!" he barked out, hips pulled forward to no avail; his ankles were firmly planted against the ground. Crack. A blow landed on the opposite cheek, this time harder. "Two!" A groan this time, feeling the bead of pre-cum drip down the head of his shaft. It was a foreign feeling, though it sent little electric shocks all through his body, warm and tingly. The whip stung again and again, each time Draco calling out the numbers. By the time he had hit 9, the skin was raw and irritated, the pain turning into a rampant heat. His body sagged against the restraints, jolting after each strike. "10!" He shouted out, back arching as the leather sliced higher, right above the top of his ass.

This seemed to satiate Hermione, for the blows stopped and he was left to pant against the darkness. She almost glided with the tall boots, and if it weren't for the occasional tickle of her hair that he felt as she circled him, he wouldn't have been able to tell which direction the heavy steps were coming from. The blindfold had turned his world black, leaving him alert. "What a good boy," Hermione whispered against the nape of his neck, her warm breath stark against the chill of the room. Her fingers traced along the welts that felt as though they were blossoming across his backside, hot to the touch and stinging with each moment. "You did better with the warmup than I expected."

"Warm up?" Draco gasped out, body instantly tense as he anticipated what would come next. Her grasp shifted to squeeze his balls, causing him to jerk and let out a low moan. "Oh, you didn't think that you would be getting just a few licks from a flimsy little crop, did you?" A light laugh, and he felt a new sensation begin to trail along his buttocks. The flogger. The tendrils seemed to trace each welt, the cool material leaving him trembling. "No, I don't allow profanity from my property."

The lack of warning for the strike was even more prominent than it had been for the crop, and when the 9 long leather strands landed against the raised and irritated skin, Draco's body lurched against the heavy metal. It was much more distanced than the single solid crop, though each individual strand seemed to leave it's vicious mark on his skin. He cried out in pain, back arching as another blow landed in between his shoulder blades. It seemed as though the flogger was to be used in places other than his abused cheeks, which were beginning to go numb to the pain at this point.

Draco didn't bother to count these blows, unable to predict the timing as Hermione alternated between swinging in the air above his skin and allowing the hide to snap against it. His body was disconnected from his mind, arousal lighting his skin on fire much more vividly than the whip could produce. What he didn't expect was to feel her dip under his arm again, turning the flogger's attention to the unmarred flesh on his chest. The first frontal stripe hit his left pectoral, striking his nipple with the brunt of the force. He cried out, head flying back as he arched against the pressure.

Hermione's strikes were relentless, targeting the most sensitive parts of his body, the whole way whispering taunts and insults into his ears as if they were reassurances. It was almost overwhelming, and his safeword was danced on the tip of his tongue. It felt like hours since he had been here, and the first time he had ever been on the receiving end of degradation. His own experience had been limited to witches he had met for the sole purpose of a hookup, ones whose names he doesn't remember. The blows landed on his biceps, his thighs, brutal ones against his stomach. When each blow felt like the pain was beginning to ease, a new one landed, his sweat pouring down his back and seeping into the sensitive cuts.

And in an instant, the flogger was withdrawn. He was left drenched in a cold sweat, panting against the restraints on his wrists and ankles that were already beginning to go numb. The hard metal dug deep into his skin, though it almost felt relieving compared to the bruising that was surely blossoming across the fatty areas of his body. Figuring out a way to cover those marks crossed his mind briefly, though the silence that filled room 13 was almost deafening, drowning out trivial thoughts such as his own. Hermione's soft breath came out in short pants, and he could hear the flogger fall to the floor as her hands began to unbind first his ankles, then his wrist. He didn't dare move to touch the blindfold, only leaned against the cold iron of the frame. His cock throbbed painfully, twitching slightly with each gasp he made.

"If you think you're done, you're fucking mistaken. You have 120 seconds to catch your breath, and then we will get to the real fun."

Something about those words caused Draco's blood to run cold; there was more that his Mistress had in store, though what, he was unsure of. Based on the hand groping at the stinging marks on the back of his thighs though, he suspected he knew exactly what was next in store from him.

.

.

.

(And the spice ramps up. Don't be too harsh on me with possible criticism, this is a story I write while I am NOT sober so it is purely for fun!

-Weezy)