You guys are so diverse. The vote came down to a tie on the date this chapter is published. I hope you enjoy the outcome!
Trauma by Doja Cat
-o-o-o-
"What time… is it, Master?"
Hermione wanted to fill the silence. She hated this. It had been a couple house since he had spanked her, yet they barely spoke. Draco was sitting at his desk, she assumed from the sounds of a quill on parchment and pages of a book being turned. He had busied himself and didn't pay any more attention to her. Hermione laid on the couch with a blanket around her as she got lost in her own thoughts.
"Almost dinner time," he replied monotonously. As if the mundane task of answering her question was irrelevant.
Hermione turned onto her side and hugged the blanket into her breasts. This wasn't what she expected. Why wasn't he spending time with her? Was he mad at her still or was this his usual daily activity? She had no information to draw a conclusion, and as a result, her anxiety ran rampant inside her.
"Master?"
Draco's irritated tone caused her to squirm, "Yes?"
The small woman bit her lip. How dare she disturb him again? Now he was definitely mad at her. Why couldn't she lay here in silence? This room was much better than the dungeon. The couch was very comfy and it wasn't cold. A combination of sandalwood and musk entered her nostrils with every inhale, a far better smell than the damp mildew of the dungeons.
"What is it, Princess?"
Hermione flinched and spoke softly, "I'm… bored, Master…"
"What would you like to do, kitten?"
She sat up slowly. His voice was light, curious, and inviting. The change of tone was unnatural to her. How could he go from being annoyed and disregarding her to open and casual? It didn't make sense.
"I… I'm not sure… What can I do?"
While trapped in the dungeons, all she could think about was her memories. She had abandoned the idea of ever leaving the cell and being able to do things again. What did she want to do?
"I want…" her voice cracked, "to read, Master…"
"... That's not an option."
"Why not," Hermione whined out and hugged herself. Draco's desk was somewhere behind the couch and for this she was grateful. He wouldn't be able to see the way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her nose scrunched, or the way she bit her lip. Him witnessing such a powerful contortion of her face would be more humiliation than she could handle.
"You know why," Draco replied softly.
"No! I don't!" Hermione cried out.
The shifting of clothing caused Hermione's arms to tighten. Why did he have to get up? Why couldn't that insufferable man stay away from her? He sat next to her and Hermione leaned forward, touching her head to her knees.
He spoke softly, "Kitten." A hand rested on her back.
"Don't touch me!" Hermione screamed as she jumped up from the couch. Her feet caught on the discarded blanket and ungracefully the woman fell to the floor. The decrepit brick wall broke and tears flooded forward.
"Kitten, please."
"No!"
Hermione moved backwards in an awkward combination of a crab-walk and a butt-scoot. Her lungs couldn't take in enough air as she gasped between sobs. The timpani was back and Hermione dug her fingers into her scalp. She stared around the room, repeatedly closing and opening her eyes. Desperation told her she would open her eyes and see the furniture, yet only darkness greeted her.
"Kitten please," Draco's soft voice interrupted, "you're having an anxiety attack. Everything is okay."
"It's not! Nothing is okay! It will never be okay!"
She continued to move backwards until she hit cold wood. She was trapped.
Hermione heard him moving. "Don't come any closer!"
Yet his steps weren't towards her. The vibrations grew softer as Draco walked somewhere in the room before coming back.
Tears streamed down Hermione's stricken face. "Please," she begged, "Let me go."
A whisper greeted her ears, "Expecto patronum."
She yelped as a soft essence brushed against her legs. It leaned into her shoulder and brushed against her wet cheeks. The creature brought an overwhelming sense of peace. As if on an escalator, Hermione's body slowly relaxed. Her muscles were no longer tight and tense. Her shaking eased into light tremors and ended with a shiver. Her frantic breathing slowed to a steady pace. The drums filling her head diminuendo into silence.
Hesitantly, Hermione reached her hand out to the tranquil creature. It's head bumped against her palm and a slight giggle left her lips. Curiosity occupied the space where terror recently left.
"What is it?"
"A patronus."
Hermione snorted. A few tears slowly leaked from her eyes, but the overwhelming sadness no longer had control.
"Clearly. What animal?"
"A dragon."
She nodded and continued to pet the patronus. The wispy energy of the dragon grazed her skin like a fluffy cloud.
As calm and light as she felt, Hermione knew it was the influence of the patronus. She felt a twinge of anger towards it's caster. She wouldn't be distracted again.
"Why am I blind Draco," Hermione asked sorrowfully as she stroked the dragon.
"You were injured."
Part of her wished the calming creature was gone, that way her anger could boil.
She questioned softly, "How? Why my eyes?"
"Kitten, you don't want to know this. It would be better to let it go. Let's move forward."
His words of comfort fell on deaf ears.
"It's my body, Master," Hermione replied calmly, fully aware of the undertones of her statement. "I have a right to know."
Draco didn't reply. The painful silence flooded her. It wasn't all bad though, the dragon continued to soothe her raging emotions. The ocean appeared to be calm, light waves lapping against the shore, but if one poked their head beneath the water, they would be caught in the hurricane below.
"You tried to escape."
Hermione stopped petting the patronus.
"When?"
His tone was guarded and even, "when you were captured."
Hermione's brain raced with endless possibilities.
"How?"
"That doesn't matter, Princess," Draco replied sternly.
The dragon pushed its head against her arm, requesting her hand to resume its attention.
"If you couldn't see, then you wouldn't be able to escape."
No magic and no vision were a powerful weapon against her.
"Master?"
"Yes?"
Hermione hesitated. Did she really want to know this? Did it even matter anymore?
"...How long have I been here?"
"Three months."
-o-o-o-
Hermione stood at attention, her arms behind her back, hands holding each other, and her head straight.
"Good girl," Draco praised, "This is how I want you to pose every time I say 'Up'. Do you understand me, Princess?"
Hermione nodded. A hand slapped her ass lightly.
"Yes, Master," she corrected herself.
Proper etiquette is what he called it. If she were to be his slave, she needed to behave like one. Draco had declared it was time to train earlier, much to the woman's confusion. She knew being his slave would be an intense change, yet she hadn't expected this form of servitude. Hermione knew it would mean acting a certain way in front of others, but in private also?
The unmistakable clinking of a chain greeted her ears.
"What-"
He spanked her again, this time harder than the first.
"When in position, you don't speak unless spoken to. Understand?"
"Yes... Master," She mumbled with shame. Having to perform various poses for his satisfaction, having her free will restricted by his rules, it was all new. She cringed and her spine gave an excited shudder. This was wrong, Hermione knew that completely. This treatment of her was inhumane. He might be taking care of her, yet to have the rules of a pet, it was just wrong.
A hand caressed her cheek, "Good girl."
Hermione leaned into his hand as her chest ached. His voice was soft and safe, the same as when he comforted her in the dungeons. However, his affections were a reward for her submission. The clinking roused her from the war inside herself. Hermione remained silent as the chain was clicked onto her collar.
"It's bedtime," he told her.
"Where-" Hermione stopped herself with the scrunch of her face. No, that wasn't correct. "Master, may I ask a question," she asked hesitantly.
"Hmmm," Draco hummed in approval, "Yes, Princess. You may."
Hermione's heart stopped and her breath hitched. His voice was low and charming. Hints of seduction dripped from his inflections. She hated the way her body reacted.
"Uh- Where- Where will I be sleeping?"
"Pets sleep on the floor."
Hermione fumed at his simple response. As if it was a casual thing for a person to sleep on the floor. As if she were truly an animal, a pet. When did slave and pet become synonyms.
"Master," Hermione ground out, "I've spent months sleeping on the floor. I thought you might have a bed for me."
To her astonishment, Draco chuckled, "What would make you think that?"
Her fists shook at her waist, shoulders going back and a glare rivaling the devil's on her pinched face.
"You gave me that impression, Master," Hermione sassed.
"A careless mistake," Draco bit out. "Clearly slaves don't know what they are," he emphasized.
All feelings of arousal left Hermione's body as she fell forward. She yelped as Draco pulled the leash. She landed roughly on her hands and knees.
"Come," He commanded. Hermione didn't dare protest, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. She didn't know where she was going, not having enough time to map out the room in her head. Draco kept the leash taught, not allowing an inch of room. Hermione kept her head up in an attempt to relieve the pressure on her neck as she crawled behind him.
"Ooph," Hermione groaned as she bumped into a hard, wooden surface. She heard a click above her.
"Tonight, you will be sleeping here"
Hermione rubbed her head while the man moved away from her. She wrapped her hand around the chain leash and pulled lightly, it resisted. Her hand followed the cold metal up to its source. It was wrapped around a wooden pole.
"I'd be careful if I were you," Draco warned as thick fabric shifted, "The leash might think you're trying to escape and tighten."
Hermione's hand dropped. The leash was already short enough, if it got any shorter, she wouldn't be able to sleep with her head on the ground. She leaned against the wooden wall, concluding that it was the foot of his bed frame.
"Goodnight, Princess," Draco said pleasantly.
"Goodnight," Hermione whispered as a drop of water slipped down her cheek.
-o-o-o-
Hermione laid on the couch listening to the soothing music coming from the gramophone. The beautiful sounds of a piano, quiet sounds of a violin, accompanied by a symphony of instruments filled the empty room. It was absolutely incredible. She smiled to herself. When Draco said he had a meeting earlier, she was expecting to be lost in silence once again. Yet he had surprised her. Music had unexpectedly entered her ears, capturing her soul and transporting her to another world. With a promise to be back as soon as he could, he hooked a chain onto her collar and left.
He had woken up kind, Hermione thought. The night before seemed to have faded from his memory as he gave her a steaming plate of breakfast. He spoke to her with a calm charm, confusing her. How could he be so controlling and demeaning the night before yet be so affectionate and giving today? The personality change gave Hermione whip-lash the more she thought about it. But as she sunk into soft cushions, her head held by a fluffy pillow, and a thick velvet blanket kissing her skin, Hermione shamefully admitted that this was better than the dungeon.
The thin chain clinked as she fingered the metal loops. Despite the physical characteristics giving the impression of a thin, weak chain, Hermione knew better. It was most definitely spelled or cursed in some way. The woman didn't want to face the backlash if she attempted to break it. Instead, she tried to find solace in the gift Draco had given her.
When was the last time she had listened to music? Before she was captured of course. Hermione drifted through her memories.
She was home from Hogwarts over summer, reading the textbooks for next year while wearing large headphones. Pop music from a popular boy band filled her ears from her CD player.
She was at Hogwarts, Victor's muscular arms around her as the band played in the background.
She was in a tent, feeling incredibly hopeless. The powerful sorrow filled her heart with a black goo, oozing into her body with a cold chill. Harry's arms were holding her as they swayed to staticy music from the radio.
A tear slipped from Hermione's eye yet didn't reach half way down her cheek before the door opened.
"Draco," Hermione excitedly said, jumping to her feet.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
Hermione gripped the metal collar around her neck as she fell to her knees. The collar set flames into her body, smoldering her skin and boiling her blood.
"Filthy mudblood! Never say my name again."
Tears sprang to her eyes as she yanked on the metal snake, yet it wouldn't budge. Draco's voice was nasty, incredibly malicious. This Draco was not the one who put music on for her earlier, it was the Draco from last night.
"Clearly you don't have control over her Draco," a male voice snorted.
She curled onto the floor, her spine sticking out in a deep curve for the men.
"Nothing a little discipline won't fix," a different male voice snickered.
Hermione moaned in relief as the fire finally ended. She stayed coiled on the floor, shielding herself from the unknown intruders. The vibrations of steps traveled through the floor and ended directly in front of her. A foot lightly kicked her head.
"Get up."
She knew that tone. That command. Not a suggestion. The demand for full obedience. Hermione whimpered and she lurched backwards onto her knees. A whistle approved.
"Damn Draco, you've been holding out on us," male one commented.
"Good tits are wasted on roaches," male two laughed.
Hermione's fists clenched on her thighs.
"I didn't say 'sit up', mudblood, I said Get Up."
Hermione jumped to her feet as fast as she could, lest the collar burn her again. She kept her eyes firmly closed as a man slowly circled her. Hot breath cascaded down her neck, sending shivers through her spine. Her arms rose to cover her breasts, but she quickly forced them behind her back. She must resume the correct pose he had taught her just yesterday.
"Look at that fucken bush, Marcus," one of the men mocked.
Shame flooded Hermione's stomach, traveling up her esophagus and gripping her throat tightly.
"Be a good girl," Draco whispered into her ear. She gasped as hands reached under her arms and cupped her breasts.
"They're heavy," Draco taunted to the men as he bounced them in his hands.
Heat rose to her cheeks and Hermione turned her head away from the feeling of their lecherous gazes. One of the men approached her. Hermione jumped as a foreign hand rested on her hip and slid around to grab her butt.
"I see why you've kept her Draco."
Draco began to pinch her nipples, causing them to perk. His low chuckle haunted her.
"She has some great uses, Blaise."
"I'd like to use her," Marcus laughed.
Hermione stumbled as she was forcefully shoved to the ground. The humiliation of being on her hands and knees, presenting herself to the likes of these men, caused bile to rise in her throat. A hand rubbed her head as it sneaked through her curly hair.
"Sit up, mudblood," Draco commanded.
Hermione fell back onto her calves. She heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper and the shuffle of clothing. Something soft touched her lips and Hermione's eyes shot open. Of course, she didn't see a thing.
"Come on," Draco encouraged, "Suck it. You know you want to."
Hermione wouldn't dare admit it to herself, but among the fear she felt were sprinkles of excitement. She did want this. She wanted to please him in the dungeon. But that was before she knew who he was. Was it okay? Draco was the same man as before, the same one who gave her food, the same one who gave her a bed, who held her, who put on music for her, and took care of her. Just because she knew who he was, just because he was authoritative sometimes, did that change what he had done for her? Did that change how she felt?
Lips parted hesitantly, allowing her wet tongue to sneak out. Hermione licked the tip slowly, in an almost curious manner, before cupping her lips around the whole thing. She ran her tongue around the tip in circles, soaking it and teasing.
"Looks like the mudblood is enjoying herself," Blaise snickered.
"Of course she is," Draco replied as he ran his fingers into her hair, "The mudblood loves being a filthy whore."
Hermione froze. That's right, they weren't alone. Draco's Death Eater friends were here, watching her, planning to use her themselves. The woman fell back, getting as much distance as she could from the offending member. The men laughed.
"Looks like she doesn't love it that much."
"Damn Draco, she looks sick. You got skrewt bumps?" *
Hermione screeched as a fistfull of her hair was grabbed and dragged her forward. "How dare you reject me, you bitch!"
The fretful woman grabbed onto Draco's wrist, trying to yank his hand away. Her face whipped to the side from a hard slap, straining her scalp from the pull on her hair.
"Now suck it like a good little mudblood," Draco commanded.
Tears prinkled the corner of her eyes as the watching men snickered. She didn't want to do this, at least not like this. Hermione hesitantly opened her mouth only to have a dick shoved all the way in. She gagged and coughed around the flesh before it was removed.
"If you don't do it willingly, I'll fucken force you," He threatened.
Hermione felt the tip of a wand pressed to her temple. Fear bubbled on her clammy body in little beads of sweat. She was well aware that Draco must know all the unforgivable curses. The thought of losing control of her body raked her with tremors. She opened her mouth and willingly wrapped her lips around him. He was thick, having more girth than Ron. It was slightly intimidating. Would she be able to do this without gagging? What if she vomited?
Forcing the terrifying thought from her mind, Hermione slowly bobbed her head along the shaft, only allowing a couple inches into her mouth. Fear has dried her tongue and she desperately thought of her favorite foods in an attempt to activate her saliva glands. Her tongue moved in circles on his flesh, wrapping around, sliding over, and crafting a map in her head. He was smooth, with a vein protruding underneath. A perfectly sculpted head with a round edge separating from the shaft.
"Faster," Draco commanded.
Hermione internally cringed with anxiety but began to move her head faster. She used her tongue to push him to the top of her mouth, rubbing it with the texturized flesh.
"Hmm, that's it," He lowly praised, his fingers subtly massaging her sore skull.
A satisfied bubble formed inside her, yet was quickly drowned by humiliation. Despite being silent, Hermione knew Blaise and Marcus were still in the room, watching her please her Master, probably touching themselves at the show. She squeezed her sightless eyes closed and focused on the task at hand.
The kneeling woman tried to take a little more of his cock into her mouth, careful not to touch her throat. Saliva seeped out the sides of her mouth, dripping down her chin. He was slick with saliva and Hermione felt embarrassed by the small amounts of flem that developed and coated his dick.
"Mmmpph?"
Hermione's startled hum went ignored by the powerful wizard as he began to guide her head, pushing her down with force. He was going too deep, too fast. Hermione's throat lurched. Her stomach flipped. She gripped onto his trousers, trying to gain balance in his ministrations.
"Mmmhhmmm. Mmmmpphh!"
The slave's throat jumped and gagged on his tip, protesting the intrusion.
"Shut up," her Master ordered. He continued to guide her head, both hands fisting her crazy curls.
Tears fell from her eyes, mixing with the bubbly saliva on her cheeks. The slick wet sounds of her ministrations filled her ears. She couldn't tell if the bile forming in her esophagus was due to embarrassment or her gag reflex. She couldn't vomit, no. That would be the worst thing. Hermione knew for certain that if she humiliated Draco like that in front of his friends, she was sure to suffer a horrendous punishment. She began tapping the man's hips, begging him to stop. She gagged and coughed on him, the bile rising up into her throat. Hermione pounded her fists on him and screamed, the wail muffled by his dick.
"Ppphhhaaaahhh!"
Sweet air filled her lungs as she gasped, finally given a moment of reprieve. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat, forcing the bile back down. Saliva and flem drenched her chin. The slopping feeling was uncomfortable and Hermione wished for a towel. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the men laughed, her Master's own snickering mixing with the other's.
"Finish what you started, mudblood," he demanded and pushed her head forwards.
Hermione whimpered as his cock once again filled her mouth. But this was different. He was faster, harder, forcing her to take him deeper. Hermione held onto him with one hand and began hitting him with the other. She couldn't take this. She was going to hurl.
"No way, bitch. I'm finishing and you're going to swallow it all."
Her sobs were muffled by his member. Shamefully, her nose began to run and Hermione wanted to hide. She couldn't focus enough to move her tongue around him. The thick cock moved in and out, hitting the back of her throat harshly. He gripped her hair tightly, yanking her head into submission.
A growl filled her ears as he stopped moving her. Creaming liquid shot into her throat but she couldn't swallow. Her muscles were overwhelmed and couldn't focus on the action. Cum filled her mouth with saliva and flem. It was too much, she couldn't keep it in.
Draco removed himself from her mouth with a sloppy pop. The creamy moist mixture of liquids streamed down her chin as a groaned wail left her.
"What a fucken mess," Hermione's Master criticized.
"A filthy blowjob from the filthy mudblood, how fitting," Blaise laughed.
Someone approached. "My turn," Marcus sneered.
Hermione flinched and leaned away from the voice. She began to crawl in the opposite direction, cum dripping off her chin to the carpet below.
"Nnaaahhh," She whined as a hand captured her curls. Not again. She wouldn't be able to keep the bile down. She would surely vomit.
"No. She's My pet. Get your own Marcus."
Draco's controlling voice sent shivers through her. It was as if he was daring the other man to touch her. Daring him to experience the consequences. Daring him to commit suicide.
"Merlin, Draco. Okay. She's your slave. All yours," Marcus replied nervously.
Hermione whimpered, tears still falling from her eyes. Her throat was sore. The liquids had glided down her neck and caused a sticky feeling on her breasts. She wanted a shower. She wanted some tea. She wanted to be held.
"Come on Marcus," Blaise interjected, "Let's go. They're probably waiting for us anyways."
"Yeah," he agreed carefully.
Hermione felt their steps grow faint and the click of a door shutting.
Instantly arms were around her. She sat on Draco's lap, cradled like a child.
"You're beautiful, kitten."
Hermione sniffed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala. He swayed them gently, the subtle movement soothing her.
"Did I," Hermione sniffled," Did I do… good, Master?"
"Hhmm. You did very good. You were such a good girl," Draco replied, nuzzling her hair.
Hermione hiccupped and smiled sweetly. His hands rubbed her clammy back, easing her tense muscle. Her shoulders dropped and she leaned into his strong body. Despite the shame and humiliation from being watched, the sticky and messy feeling of cum and saliva drying on her skin, Hermione felt a sensation of pride. She had finally pleased him. She had made him feel good, made him cum all over her.
"My little kitten," he murmured.
The elegant sounds of a classical piano from the gramophone played throughout the room.
-o-o-o-
Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I put a lot of work into revising different scenes and then my personal life got in the way too. Lol. I appreciate every single one of you who favorite, follow, and especially leave a review. Special shout out to Mizauwa-san, SK13349, and buffylovezsupercat for your reviews.
QUESTION!: Do any of you look up the song before reading a chapter? Or listen to it as you're reading?
Review! Comment! Criticize! Heart! And Share!
* Skrewt Bumps is a Wizarding STD I've created. The name is influenced by the creature Blast Ended Skrewts (obviously) which is a hybrid beast of a Manticore and Fire Crabs. The STD shows up as fiery red bumps on the genitalia (similar to herpes), and will burst like a pimple/cyst. (Good luck getting that image out of your head). The puss causes acid burns with whatever it comes in contact with. It can be treated with potions and salve to become inactive. However, just like herpes, the infection stays in your system, it will simply be inactive until the next outbreak. Yay for Wizarding sex education! Feel free to use this in your own fanfictions! But PLEASE give credit to me.
Will I explore other Wizarding STDs or sex education? Who knows? I don't!