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Hermione was absolutely flabbergasted. How had she not heard of this course before? It wasn't listed among the curriculum in their letters this summer for her to buy any materials for. She'd never heard of students in years previous talk about it. Was it a brand new class? 

She read through her timetable for the fourth time, looking for some new understanding in the same words she’d seen every other time. But no, it was still listed as a class first thing this morning: Marital Duties.

“Harry, what class do you have this morning?” she asked, turning to her best friend.

He glanced down, probably for the first time , she thought exasperatedly. “Marital Duties? What's that?” He looked up, confused.

“I dunno, Harry. I've never heard of it before.”

“Oh that's a standard sixth year class,” Ron answered around a bite of toast. “Mandatory for everyone.” He went on chewing, to Hermione's extreme annoyance.

“And what is it exactly? I don't have a textbook for it!”

“‘s no big deal ‘mione. ‘s like, anatomy lessons and communication skills. Obedience practice, that sorta stuff.”

Hermione knew her mouth was open, but she was at a loss for what to say. Surely Ron misspoke with his mouth so full. Or perhaps he had misunderstood when he'd been told about the class before. Thankfully Harry asked the question for her.

“What d’you mean ‘obedience practice?’”

Ron took a drink, finally clearing his mouth. “I mean, I don't know all the specifics. Probably just standard ‘obey your husband' type stuff.” He said it with a shrug, as if the words leaving his lips were just the customary expectation!

But before Hermione could further clarify, the Great Hall was clearing out, everyone heading to their first class of the new school year. She stood, following the crowd. Hermione wasn't sure if she should be nervous because of what Ron said, or excited for a new unexpected class to learn from.

It wasn't long before Hermione realized she was right to be worried. Marital Duties was apparently being taken by every sixth year at the same time. Students shuffled into the large lecture hall, segregating themselves by house to sit near friends.

“Everyone please take your seats,” came a deep voice, entering the room behind them and closing the door. A professor strode in that Hermione only vaguely recognised. She'd spotted him on rare occasions throughout the years but had never known what course he taught before.

“I'm professor Compton and it is my delight to welcome you all to Marital Duties,” his voice boomed, carrying to every student in the packed classroom and demanding their attention. Hermione found that she didn't mind giving him her attention at all with his wide shoulders and tall frame. The trimmed beard along his jaw, an odd sight in a society that could remove hair with a swish of a wand, gave him a rugged appearance, while the tousled waves on his head softened his whole look.

“While I'm sure most of you already have a basic knowledge of what this class entails, every year we have several students who do not. Allow me to explain.” Hermione was glad she already had her quill and parchment ready with the speed he was jumping right in. “Marital Duties is a mandatory class for every young witch or wizard before entering society. We'll go over everything you need to know to have a successful future marriage. The topics we'll cover include communication, division of labor, keys to compromising,” he ticked a finger up as he listed them off, “child rearing, obedience, discipline, pleasure, and more.”

He went on, further expanding on his first few points while Hermione tried wrapping her head around the last several. She glanced around the room, finding most students bored in their seats the way she usually found them during lectures. A few were more alert, taking notes as she should be doing. But no one seemed as struck as she was. Clearly she was just the only one who misunderstood.

Without a further thought, Hermione raised her hand into the air, intending to set this matter straight so she could properly concentrate.

Professor Compton finished his thought, directed his eyes to Hermione, and just as she opened her mouth to speak as she had been acknowledged, something in his gaze hardened. His eyes flicked down and then met hers again with the slightest arch in one eyebrow. Hermione slowly lowered her hand, confused. The Professor continued his explanation as if she had never interrupted it.

It only took her a moment to shake off the odd exchange and return to taking notes. She would just stay after class to ask all of her questions.

“And that brings me to our next point: obedience.” Professor Compton fell silent, surveying the classroom. Most students had perked up at the new topic. “I'm sure some of you will have noticed Miss Granger's hand in the air a while ago?” He waited as some people nodded and others turned their heads to find her. She felt her cheeks warm at the attention, but kept her eyes forward and attentive. “Miss Granger inadvertently became our first shining example of obedience. She had a question so she raised her hand as all good students should. She waited to be acknowledged. And then she did not ask her question. Can anyone tell me why?”

Everyone looked to their friends, searching for who would know the answer. Several turned to her, assuming she'd happily answer for her own motivations, but Hermione remained silent, not having an answer she could put into words.

“The simple answer,” he went on, drawing attention back to himself, “is that she was obedient! The more complicated answer will have to be better detailed when we get to that unit in the course, but it has to do with her taking the silent ques from me on what I wanted her to do, and choosing to follow them.

“This leads us to the next point: rewards. In a marriage, when your wife shows her willingness to obey, it is expected that you will reward her. We'll detail ways in which that can be done, but the most common and sought after is, of course, through pleasure. 

“But then, what should a good husband do when their wife does not obey? The answer is discipline. Disobedience cannot go unanswered, or you raise the risk of your witch going wild and becoming more and more disobedient.”

Hermione's hand shot back up, absolutely appalled at what she was hearing. A quick glance showed a few others felt the same, while several others were just confused. Half the class though seemed completely unaffected by this turn of events.

“Before I allow questions, let me speak very plainly, as I think it will answer several for those of you not from all magical families. In the wizarding world, wife's are subservient to their husbands. The specifics of the relationship are up to the individual but that fact is true of all relationships in our society. In marriage, your husbands will set rules that you will follow. Should you choose not to follow those rules they are within their rights to punish you. That punishment can take many forms, but the two that I think are most common and that we'll be detailing most thoroughly are spanking and the withholding of pleasure. That is to say not letting you find sexual release.

“Common in most marriages are rules about the sexual expectations from the wife. For example, some men will require their wife to be waiting naked when they arrive home from work, so they can immediately relieve built up stress. Others might require use of their wife's oral cavity to achieve release after each shower. The possibilities are endless.”

Hermione's hand had dropped at some point to cover her gaping mouth with her growing horror. This was absolutely barbaric! She knew that magical society lived a bit outdated, but for them to degrade women in this manner was completely unacceptable. She gathered her things, planning to storm out and never look back, but Professor Compton stopped her in her tracks.

“This class is mandatory for graduation. Failure or abstinence are not options. Anyone who does not pass the final exam this semester will be taking a harsher course after the holiday. Anyone who continues to fail after that second chance will be removed from Hogwarts permanently.” 

He was watching Hermione now, daring her to rise as she intended, but she was frozen in place. Failure was not an option. She settled back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap, hoping she wasn't broadcasting the tumultuous feelings roaring inside of her

“Very good, Miss Granger. That's twice now you have shown your obedience to the dominant partner in a relationship–that relationship being that of student and teacher–and I am very proud of you. I think you'll do just fine in this course, despite the worries I know are running through that head “

Hermione blushed at the praise, glad when the Professor only smiled and moved on. “And that –what I just said–is an example of a reward. Praising your partner can go a very long way toward your continued marital happiness.”

—

After class, Hermione forced Ron and Harry to the library with her. Professor Compton had stopped her on her way out, silently offering a slip of paper to her before dismissing her entirely. It was a pass for the restricted section, likely exactly where she would find the resources she so desperately craved. 

She waited until they were behind the restricted sections wards to turn on Ron, who somehow hadn't seen this coming. “Ronald Weasley you will tell me absolutely everything right now! Have you always expected to beat your wife if she steps a toe out of line!? Do you expect her to fulfill your every desire while treating her no better than a house elf?”

Ron's eyes went wide as he stuttered out his answer. “I- no, Hermione- I would nev- that's not-”

Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder to calm him down. “Hermione I'm sure this isn't going to be as bad as it sounds, alright? Give him a minute.”

“I will not give him a minute to find a way to sugarcoat this! Is this what it's like in your house, Ronald? I actually liked your dad, but if he's secretly been beating your mum-”

“What! No, Hermione! Look, it's not like that, okay? It's…not the same for everyone. Sure, mom has been-” he darted his eyes around before whispering, “ spanked occasionally, but it's not a bad thing! It helps bring her back on track when she spirals or veers off course or whatever. He doesn't beat her! And they always seem happier afterwards! It's…consensual?”

“Being forced into signing a contract is not consensual Ronald! You're telling me your mother just sits and takes this abuse happily? And what about you? Are you looking forward to- to putting your wife in her place!?”

Ron's ears went bright red at the questions. “It's not like that, Hermione! I'm not going to- to beat my wife, honest! We'll talk about what punishments will keep her in line that we're both comfortable with!”

“Keep her in line? ” Hermione scoffed, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. To think one of her best friends had no problem with this! She turned to Harry then, having had enough of Ron. “And what about you? I assume you were as blindsided by this as me. How do you feel?” 

Harry was quiet for a moment before frowning at her. “I had no idea. And I'll give you that it sounds really bad. I certainly have no intention of harming my future wife.”

“But?” Hermione asked, hearing it in his voice.

“But, I'm thinking about all the witch adults that I know. Professor McGonagall doesn't seem like a meek afraid housewife who has been ‘put in her place’ on a regular basis. And the Weasleys are the happiest family I know. Maybe there's something to this. Maybe it's not how it sounds, yeah?”

Frustrated, Hermione let out a sound of rage and turned away from her friends to find the books she needed. Harry brought up good points that she would have to think about further, but for now she needed to stew in her indignation and get researching.

—

The class met twice a week for two hours and Hermione absolutely dreaded going every single time. She could tell she wasn't the only one. Several other female students seemed apprehensive, but only a few of the males. 

After that first class detailing what was to come, everything seemed fine for weeks. Professor Compton proved a capable instructor on the topic of communication, negotiation, and compromise. They were partnered up during class to try out new techniques as they were taught, and assigned essays over ways to settle various marital disputes. Hermione was surprised to find it all quite worthwhile information.

And then October hit and so began their lessons on pleasure. 

Male anatomy came first, because of course male pleasure was the point of all of this. Hermione’s disgust returned with a vengeance. A spell had two large models projected in front of the class displaying both a circumcised and uncircumcised penis. Another spell had them growing erect for the class before Professor Compton got very detailed in the various ways in which a woman could use her body to please a man's using only this organ.

Another class highlighted stimulation of the scrotum and the prostate, though the latter would be only at their husband’s discretion. Not everyone would be comfortable with proximity to their rectum. 

They then moved on to female anatomy, trading in the penile projections for that of various vulvas. They displayed the different ways the labia could look and varying styles of pubic hair. “Men, it'll ultimately be up to you how your wife grooms their pubic area so take note of your preferences when looking at these, but remember to keep an open mind. If your wife prefers a full bush, for example, it's best to try it out for a while before requiring her to spell it all off to meet your preference. Keep in mind everything we've said about compromise.”

Breasts and asses were displayed and explained as well, but special attention was paid to the clitoris, bringing the class their first lesson discipline. “Many women can not achieve release without stimulation of the clitoris, as we've already detailed, and that leads us into our first type of punishment: orgasm denial. Some men prefer to keep all forms of pleasure from their wife when they've gone astray, but another way is to bring them pleasure without allowing them to reach that ultimate pleasure. Stimulate them here,” he pointed to the large clitoris projection, “or one of the other areas we've examined but only until they approach that edge. Then pull away to keep them from reaching that goal. This can potentially be done several times in a row if your partner has done something really bad and is in need of serious correction. 

“I must caution you though that all punishments must have a set expiration. A condition that must be met or a length of time for it to be carried out. If there is no end in sight it can lead to negative feelings from your wife, which spirals into resentment and only leads to her behaving worse. 

“Let's look at some other forms of discipline.”

And on it went. Spanking seemed to be the most common way to punish a wayward wife. Her bare bottom provided the largest surface that could suffer the most pain. But there was always her thighs, her clitoris, her breasts, her nipples, or any other patch of skin they desired to see reddened. 

“It is important to dole out pleasure to your wife when she so deserves. This could be by bringing her to mutual release, of course, but other gestures can also take this place. A word of gratitude can go a long way, for example. Or an offering for them to take a turn choosing something that falls under the man's purview. Remember the pubic hair? Perhaps allow their hair to grow how they choose for a set time. There are plenty of possibilities to choose from.”

—

November brought a whole new level of anxiety with the announcement that they were to be paired up to simulate being married for the following month. They would have to live together and employ the communication techniques they'd learned to create a happy marriage. The women were expected to obey their male partners in all things, including sexually.

“You can't be serious!”

Hermione wasn't sure when she'd stood up, and she was struggling to realize that she had been the one to interrupt Professor Compton in the middle of his explanation. Every eye was turned on her, some flicking back and forth to the professor too.

Professor Compton had fallen silent at her outburst, standing tall and patient as he stared her down. Hermione silently lowered herself down into her seat, embarrassed. He continued to watch her as she finally looked down to her lap, contrite.

“Was there something you wished to say, Miss Granger?”

Hermione shook her head, softly answering, “No sir. I apologize for my outburst.”

He made a deep humming noise in the back of his throat as he leaned back against his desk, crossing his feet in front of him. “Pop quiz time. Everyone, take out a spare bit of parchment. Men, I would like you to write down how you would discipline your wife if she were to very rudely interrupt you. Women, I'd like you to write down how you could apologize to your husband beyond saying ‘I’m sorry.’”

Hermione's cheeks were blazing. Not only was she the reason for a sudden quiz, but it was about her. And all the men were now thinking about how they'd like to reprimand her and it was just awful.

After only a minute or so Professor Compton called for a halt. “Make sure your name is on your parchment and ladies, raise yours into the air.” They did as they were told only for a spell to bring all their answers right to him in a neat stack.

“All right, I won't read off names but we'll grade these as a class. Men, if the answer I read off would be a good apology to you , then raise your hand.

“Right, first off we have ‘Fall to my knees and beg forgiveness.’” He paused to look around for raised hands. Only a few were up. He set the paper on the desk and read off the next one. “Suck his cock.’” His pause this time was short, as every hand was raised. Professor Compton set that one on the other side of him, making a new pile. “‘Pull down my skirt and bend over.’” Most hands raised at that, though several were only halfway raised. “Interesting. Tell me, Mr. Smith, why you seem unsure if that is an acceptable apology.”

Zacharias grimaced at being called on. “It doesn't really say why they're bending over so how am I to know if that's an apology? Are they presenting themselves to be fucked or to be spanked or just mooning me?”

“Excellent, yes! It's important to be specific in however you choose to communicate with your partners. If you have previously agreed that presenting your rear is the form in which you are to apologize, then this is an excellent choice. If not, then you need to do better.” He added that answer to the first pile which Hermione took to mean that stack was for inadequate answers. The dreadful realization that followed that thought was that ‘suck his cock’ was therefore a correct answer.

Professor Compton read through the whole stack, sorting several sexual acts into the ‘correct’ pile, as well as a few spanking answers. Joining the ‘inadequate’ was Hermione’s own answer (‘promise to try not to do it again’) and several other non-physical options. To sum things up, if clothes weren’t coming off, the wife wasn’t apologizing well enough.

“For those of you who’s answers went in this stack,” he held up the parchments Hermione deemed ‘correct,’ “congratulations, you’ve passed the test. If your answer went over here,” he held up the smaller stack, “then you owe me 7 inches on why your answer wasn’t acceptable.”

He stacked them together then, waving his wand and sending them into his connected office for him to attend to later. “Men, your turn. Answers in the air.”

He relaxed back against his desk to start the whole process over again. “Women, you will raise your hand if you think that I read off an adequate punishment. First up, ‘shove my cock into her mouth to show her a better use for her throat.’”

Hermione was among the half who did not raise her hand. “Miss Bones, why would you say this is an inadequate punishment?”

That Susan agreed with Hermione was a relief. She’d always thought the Hufflepuff had a good head on her shoulders. “Well for one, it’s crude. For another, it sounds as if his wife isn’t allowed to speak at all, which is completely unfair. And for a third, it’s angry. You said not to discipline while angry.”

Professor Compton nodded thoughtfully then rifled through the stack of answers in his hand, pulling one to the top. “How about this one? ‘Remind her that opening her mouth out of turn will be seen as a desire for me to fill it. Which I will then do with my cock.’ Is that better?”

Nearly all the women’s hands went up at that and Professor Compton separated the two answers on his desk. Hermione was still appalled. That speaking up could force a penis into her mouth was unthinkable! And it might very well be her reality come the start of her pretend marriage.

Several more answers were read through. Various similar answers to the first two were given as well as several spankings. One said writing lines and another suggested washing their mouth out with soap. Only ones that were worded too harshly were ‘incorrect’ but everything else was accepted. “The reason nearly all of you got that right is because you are the one who gets to set the punishment. What you say, goes. Within reason. And for some of your wives, things like writing lines may very well be the hardest punishment for her to carry out. That will be for you to discover in the coming month.”

He sent those pages off to join the first group, conveniently not assigning the failed men any assignment as he’d done the women. “Now,” he shifted his gaze to look directly at Hermione. “Humiliation is a viable form of punishment we only touched briefly on. Everyone, raise your hand if you think it to be a sufficient form of discipline.” 

Hermione’s raised, as did most others. “Good. We didn’t go much into that yet because there are rules for your month-long project. One of which says all marital acts are to be done inside your assigned dwellings. That means any physical form of sexual act, discipline, or reward. Therefore ‘humiliation’ isn't something you’ll have as much access to in your punishment toolkit. However, if you feel you truly need to add a spot of humiliation to get a point across to your partner, you may schedule a time for me to come by your dwelling for you to perform such a discipline.”

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning at the idea. For a teacher to see her being spanked or fucked or… whatever, was truly horrifying.

“On your desk,” he flicked his wand to summon papers for everyone, “is the guidelines for this project. The rules and regulations. The limits. I want to specifically highlight the rule at the very top. You’ll be signing a contract for this project that will keep everything between two partners completely secret, with the exception of myself and a few other professors should they need to step in. Any attempt to break this contract and share details with an outside party will lead to an automatic failure for the course and expulsion from Hogwarts. We do not take this lightly.

“Read through the rest on your own time and come to class on Thursday with any questions you might have. Additionally, I have more homework for you. Men, you will need to submit the rules that you will require your wife to follow. This will not be contractually binding. Rules in a marriage are not binding, they’re building blocks. They can be altered and changed to fit the specific relationship needs, but you must start somewhere. You can submit any number you want, and we’ll go over them in the meetings I have scheduled for you. We’ll use that time to talk through which will or won't work, as well as receive input from your assigned wife. 

“Likewise, women. Provide a list of hard limits for yourself. Things that you will not do or will not have done to you. Keep in mind, there are very few limits I will allow you to keep and bind your husband to as well.”

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up Thursday absolutely terrified. She had her scheduled meeting just after lunch with Professor Compton. Finally she was going to find out which of the 6th year boys she was to be “married” to. Who would be violating her and forcing her to obey his every command? Hermione spent her free time praying to any universal force for it to be someone like Harry. Someone who she trusted who would be kind and not monstrous.

She didn’t have any questions come class time early that morning. The information they’d been given was very thorough, which she greatly appreciated. Now she knew that each of their dwellings had certain protection spells in place that would prevent either party from going too far and truly harming the other. There would be wards to ensure any discipline was fitting for the crime. If something truly heinous happened then the male partner was within their rights to truly beat the female, but if some minor offense occurred, the husband would be forcefully restrained if they tried to punish too severely. 

There had been an entire page detailing those safeguard, and it had allowed Hermione to breathe marginally freer. She could almost guarantee she wouldn't do something absurd enough to warrant a harsh punishment, so she shouldn’t have too much to worry about there.

The problem then laid within the rules decided on by her husband-to-be. They had few restrictions on what they could require of their spouse. If they wanted, they could have rules for Hermione to bring them to completion through various methods, but they were allowed to enforce no more than two a day. They could, however, force her to bring them to climax more often through disciplinary actions. Hermione spent the day with her fingers crossed, hoping for a partner who wouldn’t enact such punishments.

—

At lunch she only managed to get a bit of bread down, afraid her stomach wouldn’t be able to handle anything more substantial. All too soon, she was leaving the Gryffindor table, forcing herself to breathe calmly when she noticed none of her friends standing at the same time for an appointment. There went her hope that she’d be paired with someone kind of understanding.

Her walk to the classroom took entirely too little time, and Hermione had to keep telling herself that she was going to be fine! She had read everything she could and gone over every worst case scenario in her head. She was already seventeen for Merlin’s sake! An adult in the wizarding world! She could absolutely handle this.

With her resolve settled, she knocked on Professor Compton’s office door. Two seconds later it opened for her, Professor Compton greeting her with a smile and ushering her inside. Already waiting in the room was none other than Draco Malfoy, sitting primly in one of the two waiting chairs and sipping a cup of tea. Not a hair was out of place on his perfect little head and not a nervous twitch in sight.

She should have known.

Hermione only allowed the barest of hesitations before she soldiered on, taking the remaining chair while Professor Compton rounded his desk.

“Tea, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, thank you.”

A small wave of his wand had a cup appearing from the kitchens, brewed just how she liked it. She took a sip for the propriety of it and hoped her stomach would be able to handle more during this meeting.

“Alright, I find it best to dive right in. Mr. Malfoy, do you fully understand the rules and limitations I’ve laid out in the contract, as well as the expectations upon you as the husband in this scenario?”

“I do.” He took another sip of his tea, the liquid inside not trembling in the slightest. Not that Hermione was looking. 

He repeated the inquiry to Hermione, substituting in the word ‘wife.’

“I do,” Hermione mirrored, foregoing the tea that would surely give away her nerves.

“Wonderful! Then let’s move onto the marital rules Mr. Malfoy submitted this morning.” Professor Compton pulled a file from the side of his desk to the middle and pulled the top slip of parchment out of it. He cast a spell to duplicate the parchment twice and handed a copy to each of them. 

Hermione swallowed as she eyed the new rules she’d be living by.

1. You will not allow any but me to touch you in any manner.
2. The only undergarments you will be permitted to wear will be lingerie of my choosing.
3. Each morning you will be required to bring me to release with your mouth, and swallow any semen produced.
4. Each evening you’ll submit your body to be used in whatever manner I see fit to bring me to release before sleeping.
5. You are not to bring yourself to release unless directed to do so by me. 
6. You will not lie to me under any circumstance. To aid in this, you will wear a ring provided by me that will inform me of the whitest of lies.

She didn’t even know which point to panic about first.

Professor Compton gave her two minutes to read and reread the list before continuing the meeting. “The only potential problem I see here is number two. I must stipulate that any lingerie provided must be capable of being fully hidden beneath Miss Granger’s school uniform. Otherwise it is a violation of contract in that marital things will be kept in marital dwellings. Understood?”

Malfoy nodded his acquiescence, and Professor Compton went on. “Other than that I find no further issue with anything listed here, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Granger, do you have any questions or clarifications you’d like to make of anything listed?”

She took a sip of tea then, hoping to help her voice come out clearly. “Number four. Does that take into account the limits that I’ve set?”

Draco’s eyebrow raised at that, finally marginally interested in the fact that she was signing away her body for the next month. 

“Ah, yes, let's take a look at those. I was honestly surprised how short the list was, Miss Granger.”

“Yes, well, I’ve done my reading and I know what’s expected. I understand what’s required of me here.”

“Very good.” He copied her list to hand to them both as he had done with Draco’s list. Hermione took a sip of tea while they read.

“First limit is ‘no cramped or unnaturally dark spaces.’ I think that is a limit that can be respected.” 

He looked up at Draco who nodded his understanding. “I agree to respect her limit.”

She breathed a sigh of relief at that.

“The second thing, ‘Semen, vaginal discharge, and saliva are the only bodily fluid allowed to be exchanged’ we can limit for now, with the understanding that it’s a subject for you two to discuss and potential try should Mr. Malfoy have a pressing desire for it. Should that be the case you will discuss this again with me to remove the limit before trying anything of the sort. Yes?”

Draco repeated again, “I respect her limit.”

Hermione only nodded, thrilled to have gotten this much. 

“The third limit though, I’m sorry, but no. Your husband has the right to every orifice on your body, including your anus. We cannot allow ‘no anal’ to be a limit.”

Hermione nodded again, having expected this, even if she had been hoping for the opposite. 

“That decided, let’s revisit your question, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy’s fourth rule in regards to your limits. He will not be allowed to find his release with your body in a cramped or unnaturally darkened space, nor will he involve bodily substances outside of those indicated until such time as we have that limit lifted. Anything else?”

“Number six. Is the ring only required within the marriage dwelling? Is lying allowed during the day throughout the castle?”

“Ah, I see. The rules of your marriage are in effect at all times. In your dwelling, in class, during meals, the library, the quidditch pitch, everywhere. So no, according to your husband, lying is never allowed. However, if you were to break that rule during class or something, he will have to wait until you’re both secluded in your dwellings before disciplining you for your misstep. A ring is ordinary enough that you can wear it on your person at all times without any indication that it relates to your marriage.”

He looked at her as she nodded her understanding. “And with rule number one,” she asked, sure that it was just poorly worded. “My friends can’t touch me? Can I touch them? If I stumble on one of my girlfriends crying, am I allowed to hug them? If I fall, am I allowed to accept a hand up?”

Professor Compton only turned to Draco for an answer. Draco, surprisingly, turned the full force of his icy eyes on her to answer. “You will not touch or be touched by anyone for any reason while you are mine. If you fall, by all means, accept a hand up. But you will do so with every expectation of being punished for the slight later. However,” his gaze lightened slightly and he took another sip of tea. “I’m not a monster nor completely unreasonable. You’ll be given the chance to explain the circumstances of the touch. Be warned though that only the absolutely necessary touches might be permitted.”

Hermione found herself trapped in his eyes until a hum from Professor Compton pulled her attention away. “I don’t like that. While yes, partners must be flexible in altering rules as needed, the rules themselves need to be solid to promote a healthy marriage. Hermione needs to be given exacting guidelines for what is or is not allowed with regards to touch. Mr. Malfoy you will take today to figure out more specifics with regards to rule one and submit them to me first thing tomorrow morning.” 

He scribbled a note on his copy of the rules that magically transferred to theirs. PENDING CLARIFICATION was written after the first rule, and Hermione knew that any updates would appear there after Professor Compton received them in the morning. 

“Great, is there anything else either of you would like to ask or go over?” 

“No, professor,” Hermione answered, while Draco only gave the barest shake of his head. “Wonderful! Then pending tomorrow’s edits I congratulate you both on a successful marriage contract, and wish you the best in the coming month! You’ll be expected to meet at the dwellings to begin this project Friday evening after your final class. I’ll see you then!”

—

Hermione didn't know where the time had gone. One minute she was leaving the professor's office, and the next she was walking into her new marital dwelling with Draco, the door seeming to slam shut behind them. Hermione knew that the forbidding echoing of that phantom slam could only be in her head.

They stood there in silence for a moment, Hermione trying to wrap her head around how she’d even gotten here. Had she attended classes that day? Did she eat breakfast? Maybe she would be lucky enough to black out the entire coming month.

Draco moved forward to look around, and Hermione followed. Their dwelling had a small living room done up in neutral colors. The couch looked firm, the armchair squashy. Draco took the time to press a hand into each, confirming his own observations. There was a small table between them with a lamp that he tapped the base of to turn on, and again to turn back off. Hermione thought it seemed like a great place to curl up with a good book and she looked forward to doing so. An oval coffee table sat in front of the seating with a welcoming basket for them. 

Hermione set her satchel on that table for now, glad she’d managed to not shake in doing so, and spared a quick glance for the basket. There were marital pamphlets in it, probably repeating information they’d already learned, and a variety of chocolates and candies. A small box lay in front of everything with ‘START HERE’ in large bold lettering. She reached to pick it up before realizing Draco was already moving on.

Behind the lounging area, a square wooden table sat against the wall with two sturdy chairs on either side. Draco pulled one out and tipped it onto its back legs. He swayed it back and forth before replacing it under the table. They had a small kitchenette which Hermione expected was more for calling on house elves than actual cooking.

There was only a single door in the main space, leading to their bedroom. Not plural. Because they would be sharing for the duration of their pretend marriage. Hermione couldn't help the sharp intake of breath at the sight of the large bed, both of their trunks waiting at the foot. 

Draco glanced back at the sound, an eyebrow raised with a question she didn’t answer. He shook his head, continuing his exploration into the bathroom, Hermione right behind. She couldn’t help but think Professor Compton would be so proud of how she trailed after her husband. She rolled her eyes, mentally scoffing at that.

The bathroom was probably going to be her favorite room in the dwelling. After having to share a bathroom with all the girls in her dorm for years, having to share with just one person was going to be a godsend. 

There was a sink for each of them and plenty of counter space for any products they might have. The toilet was secluded in a small closet-sized room. The shower was the largest she’d ever seen and had two shower heads. And the bath was clearly designed for two, with high sides and rounded edges for leaning back on. Hermione couldn’t wait for her chance to try it out.

Draco only nodded to himself, like it passed whatever standard he’d set for the space, before turning on his heel to head back into the main living area. Hermione allowed herself one deep breath before following.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch having still not said a word to each other. Hermione reached out for the small box she’d noticed before, plucking the lid off easily. Inside lay two small vials of amber colored liquid and a note that said ‘Bottoms Up.’

Hermione showed Draco the contents and then handed him one of the vials. “I didn’t read anything about this part. Do you know what it is?” she asked, banking on pureblood knowledge that was passed down through generations.

Draco unstoppered the vial and took a whiff. He swirled the contents and held it up to get a better view of the potion. “I think I do.”

Hermioone waited one moment and then another. “Are you going to tell me?”

He looked at her then for the first time all day. It might be the first time he’d ever really looked at her. Past the frizz of her hair and the know-it-all attitude she knew people accused her of. Draco met her eyes, contemplating something she couldn’t read on his face. Then he looked back at the potion and downed it in one quick gulp.

“Draco!” Hermione’s hand stopped in midair, too late to stop him.

“Not too bad,” he said, licking his lips and ignoring her concern. He glanced her way–his eyes somewhat hazy–noticing her vial wasn’t even opened. “Do you need help with that?”

She looked from her potion back to Draco, flummoxed. “No, I do not need help with it! I need you to tell me what you just took!”

He set the empty bottle down and then leaned back on the couch, looking entirely too comfortable for a person who just swallowed a mystery potion. “Does it matter?” he asked, head rolling towards her. “It’s part of this whole…thing,” he said, waving his hand through the air to encompass their surroundings, “so I don’t really think there's a choice in it.” He caught her eye then, head lifting from its lazing position. “Drink the potion, Hermione.”

Hermione nearly dropped the vial at that. Draco Malfoy had never said her name. Not her first name with nothing else attached. Not without a sneer to it. Just what had he swallowed? “You called me Hermione.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to point it out.

“Can’t very well call my wife by her maiden name, can I?”

But she wasn’t really his wife. She hadn’t actually given up her name.

A folded paper appeared in front of the basket on the table, distracting her. She read it allowed, since Draco’s head had tilted back onto the couch again. “‘Open me after drinking.’” Hermione pursed her lips, really not having a choice now. Her curiosity wouldn’t let her leave that paper closed. “Oh, bother.” 

She uncorked her vial and drank it as quickly as Draco had, surprised to find the taste nearly pleasant. The effect was immediate. Hermione felt the tension draining from her limbs as the stress of the day fell away. Her thoughts no longer ran in circles going over every text she’d read for this class and the professor’s every instruction. She found herself just taking things in and letting them go. Thoughts like ‘the couch is comfortable’ and ‘Draco’s hair looks so soft’ occurred to her and then immediately floated away.

“Do you see now?” Draco asked, and she forced herself to turn towards him, the answer dawning on her at his question.

This was an Inhibitions Inhibitor. It varied by the drinker but most people felt tipsy while under its influence. It was a restricted potion due to its effect being that of a mild veritaserum. 

“Relax, Hermione.” Draco’s voice drew her attention again, allowing her worries to float away. “It won’t last too long.” 

He was closer to her now and Hermione had no idea when he’d moved. He plucked the paper out of her hands and opened it, reading it aloud for her. “‘Congratulations on your recent nuptials. As a way to ease the transition into this exciting new phase of your lives, here’s your opportunity to get things out on the table with a stress-free ice breaker. Answer the questions honestly with the first thing that comes to mind instead of filtering out what you’re worried to say. Communication is the key to a happy marriage, after all. Have fun!’”

Though they had signed the next month of their lives away already, the actual month didn’t start until tomorrow. Today was to be a day to move in, get settled, and get to know your partner if you didn't already. Apparently this potion and ice breaker was supposed to aid in that endeavor. 

Draco looked at her for a moment, but Hermione had absolutely nothing to say to that. She had a vague sense that there was something to worry about here, but the specifics were escaping her.

Draco continued reading. “‘First question. What are you most dreading in the coming month?’”

“Being terrible at everything,” Hermione answered with her first thoughts as instructed.

“But you’re not terrible at anything,” Draco pointed out, which Hermione knew wasn’t true. “I’m afraid of hurting you.”

“But you’re supposed to hurt me. It’s in the rules. Any mistakes I make deserve a punishment.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really the same thing.”

Before Hermione could ask him what he meant, he read off the next question and her curiosity drifted away. “‘What are you most looking forward to?’”

Again, Hermione didn’t think before answering, “Having someone’s attention without wondering what notes they want to copy or what assignment they need help with.”

Draco frowned at that. “But you have friends.”

It wasn’t a question, but Hermione didn’t mind expanding. “Of course I do. And I love my friends. But sometimes I worry they wouldn’t stick around if I wasn’t useful.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t comment any further. Draco glanced back down at the card, eyes tracking over the question again, muttering it to himself. “I’m looking forward to having a space where everything is secret and the only other person allowed in on the secret isn’t allowed to say a word outside.” He paused before tacking on, “Or getting to touch you.” Draco’s hand reached partially toward her like he was going to fulfill that desire right then. “It’s tied,” he decided, dropping his hand limply back to the couch. 

His answer confused her. Was he not used to having secrets? How was touching her a good thing? Likely by inflicting pain.

Draco remained in place looking thoughtful, so Hermione grabbed the paper from his hands to continue the game, letting his answers disappear. “‘What is your parent’s relationship like?’”

A soft smile blossomed on Draco’s face at that. The sight made Hermione sad, though she couldn’t decipher why. “They’ve had a mostly happy marriage. Father has always been firm, but it’s clearly out of love. He cares for mother more completely than anyone else I’ve ever seen has cared for their partner. And she,” his smile dropped, “she’s feeling very alone with him locked up. It’s like she’s spun out of control. She’s not the same.”

Hermione had no business feeling sorry for the Malfoys after the attack on the Ministry that Lucius had spearheaded, but she couldn’t help it when Draco sounded so pitiful next to her. She leaned closer, resting a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“My parents have a simple happiness. They fell in love and achieved their dreams. They work together and cook together and read together at night. They’ve always gotten on well.” Hermione didn’t know what else to say on the matter, and she hated that her answer felt lacking. She knew her parents loved each other, but the way Draco talked about his made her feel like her parents were missing something. She hated that, letting the thought float away in favor of the next question. 

“‘Are you a virgin?’” She giggled, finding the idea of Draco Malfoy being a virgin completely absurd.

He smiled at her, answering with a succinct, “No.”

“Next is ‘what-’”

“You didn't answer.” The interruption confused her, annoying her that her thoughts weren't following the conversation as well as she would like. Seeing her uncertainty, he clarified, “You didn't tell me if you're a virgin.”

“Oh, yes, of course I am.” Hermione knew she should be embarrassed and she was momentarily mad at herself for not at least trying to hold that answer back. She looked back at the list to read the next question, but Draco stopped her again.

“What do you mean ‘of course?’” He trailed his eyes down her torso and then back up, landing on her hair. Hermione ran a hand down it self consciously, tamping down frizz. 

“I mean I've never had anyone interested enough to…change that.” 

Draco gave her a look then that she couldn't decipher. “What?” she asked, knowing she'd never have asked without the potion still coursing through her.

“I just doubt that no one has been interested.”

Hermione’s eyebrows lifted, having not expected that. “I know Inhibitions Inhibitor doesn't necessarily force the truth out of a person like veritaserum does, but I can assure you I'm not lying.”

Draco shook his head lightly. “I don't think you're lying; I think you're naive. Plenty of people are interested in you. They just haven't acted on it.”

Now Hermione was shaking her head. “What makes you say that? Why wouldn't they have acted if they were interested?”

“Could be any number of reasons. Maybe they're intimidated by your intelligence. Or they could think you're dating Potter. Or they saw you with Krum and think he must be your type, meaning they don't have a chance.” Draco paused then, looking her up and down again and shrugging. The movement jostled Hermione’s hand out of place, and she let gravity pull it down, landing right next to his. “But I've seen people look at you, Hermione. I'd bet on several willing parties.”

Hermione frowned at that. She felt like she should be embarrassed by his ogling and declarations, or proud that there was interest in her, but the feelings wouldn't stick. “Are you one of those willing parties?”

Draco raised a brow, smirking. He shifted slightly, resting with their pinkies now touching. “I'm your husband, aren't I?”

Hermione scowled at that non answer, but let it go.

They sat in silence for a moment before Draco said, “I am surprised about Krum though.” When Hermione tilted her head in question, he clarified. “That he didn't fuck you.”

She blinked at that, mildly offended by the crude words, and indignant that Draco would think it was entirely up to Krum. But of course, she realized, it was up to Krum.

A soft smile took over her face. Krum, the male in their relationship, would have been within his rights to use Hermione to an extent. He couldn’t have forced her to have sexual intercourse (only a married party could demand that), but there were other allowances. If he had started with one thing, Hermione was sure it would’ve been a slippery slope straight to sex. But Viktor had never once pushed. He'd been respectful and kind and had never pressured her to go beyond her limits. Before now, Hermione hadn't realized just how lucky she'd been with him.

“Tell me what you're thinking about?” Draco asked, having been watching her face soften. His pinky lifted over hers to hook them together. Hermione watched the interlocked digits while she answered. 

“Just…praising my fortune that the first guy who ever showed interest in me didn't push me. I would've given in.” She chuckled self deprecatingly. “I would've let him ‘fuck me’ simply because he payed me attention.”

Draco's eyes lost some of their shine and Hermione wasn’t sure if that was because of what she had said or if the potion was wearing off. It would be good to get back to themselves, except for the part where sitting here, talking with him, was so much easier in this state.

—

When they were both sobered up, Hermione shot to her feet, embarrassed by everything she’d revealed. She cleared her throat, loudly, before declaring, “I’m just going to-” she ran into the arm of the couch in her attempt to get some distance between them, “oh!” she exclaimed at the impact. “I’m just going to go unpack my trunk.” Draco didn’t acknowledge her. He just sat forward, arms on his knees, hands clasped as he stared at the floor. 

They skirted around each other for the rest of the evening. Hermione returned to the living room to read in the squishy chair while Draco took a turn retreating to the bedroom. When she got up for a drink of water from the kitchen she opened her mouth to ask him if he’d like a glass, before realizing how ‘50s housewife that sounded and abandoning the idea. No need to give him further ideas to enslave her with.

They both converged on the kitchen when their dinner appeared. It was a selection of chicken cooked in various ways, and several veggie sides. A simple pie was their only option for dessert. They each gathered a plateful before turning to face the table.

“We’re supposed to eat together,” Draco reminded her, sounding more like he was telling himself that.

Hermione only nodded, heading to the little dining table. They were required to eat most of their meals together. During the week they could take lunch in the Great Hall with their friends. Everything else was to be here. In this small shared space. For an entire month. 

Hermione sat on the far side of the table, waiting for Draco to take his seat on the opposite side. If they were going to coexist, they were going to have to stop dancing around each other like this, and Hermione intended to cut this tension and move on.

“What would you rather do, Draco: talk about the game and what was said, or ignore that it ever happened?”

He met her eyes the moment she began talking. It was the first time since they’d been potion-dazed that he had done so, and Hermione was surprised to find his usual icy stare to be absent. His grey pupils seemed light, open, and far clearer than they had before. Not at all the sharper, icier color she expected. What had he said this morning? He was looking forward to having someone to share secrets with. Was this part of his secrets? Was Draco Malfoy not the hard, cruel boy he fashioned himself to seem?

Internally, Hermione shook her head. Her thoughts were getting carried away, trying to infer entirely too much from his vague answers. 

Draco remained quiet for longer than she expected. Did that mean he wanted to pretend their drugged conversation  didn’t exist? That he hadn’t said he wanted to touch her? That he hadn’t looked at her– No, Hermione wouldn’t let the thought continue. She opened her mouth to agree to keeping their silence on the matter, but Draco finally spoke up.

“Neither. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen; I’m glad it did. But I don’t want to talk about it either.” He paused, deliberating. “I think it’ll just make me angry. Or frustrated.”

“Why–”

“We can talk in general though,” he added, speaking over her.

Hermione received that message loud and clear. He wasn’t willing to expand on that at this time. Maybe she could breach the topic again tomorrow.

“Alright…have you finished the Runes assignment?”

He lifted an eyebrow as if to say ‘schoolwork, really?’ but allowed the topic change. They had to start talking somewhere.

The late evening passed in much the same manner. They remained together in their dwelling, sometimes in different areas, seeking some solitude. Other times in closer proximity, attempting small talk as they did homework or read. It felt too quiet without the din of their houses surrounding them, but they made due.

Eventually, it was time to head to bed. Singular. The one they would be sharing.

“Hermione,” Draco called, stopping her from gathering her pajamas. “When we wake up we’ll be under contract.” Hermione nodded, very well aware of this. “And under contract you won’t be allowed to wear whatever you’re planning to sleep in right now.”

Hermione froze, realizing the truth in his words. She sucked in a breath, holding it for a  moment. “I guess I need you to pick something out for me right now then…and I’ll need the ring, too.”

Draco walked to her dresser, opening a drawer and rummaging around inside. He pulled out a Gryffindor red babydoll nightgown with a wide V neck and the thinnest possible straps to hold it up. A matching pair of cheeky panties with a lacy trim accompanied it.

Hermione’s cheeks went as red as the clothing. She took it from him, not meeting his eyes. 

“It’s the most modest of the options, and I thought the color might be comforting?”

Hermione glanced at him then, touched by the thoughtfulness. 

“But, for tonight, I won’t look, if you want. Get changed in the bathroom and I’ll face away until you’re under the covers. Tomorrow though, you can’t hide from me.”

Hermione nodded her assent. “Thank you,” she acknowledged. She hadn’t expected this kindness. 

She peeked through the bathroom door when she was done, finding a shirtless Draco leaning against the headboard with his body firmly turned away from her while he read. It was hard not to stare at the defined lines of his back as she crossed the distance between them. His usual robes and finely tailored shirts belied the muscles hidden underneath, likely from years of Quidditch. An arm holding a book had never been quite so enticing to her before.

Pushing the thought away, Hermione pulled back the covers and climbed up beside Draco. She slid down and tugged the blanket up until her chest–which was far more exposed through the V of her nightie than she would like–was covered.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Draco turned just his head at first, seeing that she was decent before allowing his whole body to swing around. He placed his book on his nightstand before grabbing a small box off of it. Opening it revealed a small, simple gold band. She took it when he held it out, gave it a quick once over, and then slid it onto her left ring finger.

Hermione held her hand above her, fingers splayed. She didn’t feel any different; no magic seemed to be at work from the small band. Pulling her hand back, she twisted the ring around her finger, getting a feel for it, but when she tried to take it off, it wouldn’t budge.

Noticing her efforts, Draco explained, “I’m the only one who can remove it once it’s on.” He grabbed her wrist gently and demonstrated by plucking the band easily off of her. Then he offered it back for her to adorn once again.

Draco slid further under the covers and turned out the lights with a swish of his wand. With a muttered “Goodnight,” they turned on their sides, facing away from each other. Hermione fiddled with the ring, worries about the following day playing on a loop in her head.

Chapter Text

Hermione opened her eyes to soft sunlight glowing behind their window curtain, surprised she’d even fallen asleep. She turned her head, finding Draco laying on his stomach, the blanket having fallen halfway down his back, displaying the toned shoulders she’d first glimpsed last night. An arm was under his pillow and his head turned towards her. Strands of hair fell over his eyes in a manner he’d never allow while awake and something about the steady sound of his breathing was mesmerizing to listen to. 

It was only minutes later that Draco began stirring, his face crunching slightly from its relaxed state. Fingers twitched and then his eyes were peeking open, meeting hers before closing and turning his head into the pillow. His body arched, stretching his back, before turning all the way over, the blanket falling to just cover his waist. He brought a hand up to wipe sleep from his eyes before letting his head finally lull back towards her.

Hermione’s eyes shot up to meet his, having been tracing the lines of his abs the moment they’d come into view. Never would she have guessed just how fit Draco was. He apparently noticed where her gaze had landed, the corner of his mouth tugging into a lazy smirk. He didn’t comment on it though, which she was grateful for.

“Been awake long?” he asked, gaze never leaving hers.

“Only a few moments.”

They continued their staring match a while longer, Hermione searching for the frozen depths that usually pinned her in place, and only finding them thawed and glistening in the early morning glow. He'd been warm like this yesterday too, but Hermione has been convinced the dawn of their marriage would bring back a harder husband.

“Right then.” Draco’s hand flattened on the bed, pushing himself to sit and adjusting his pillow to lean back against the headboard. “Happy first day of marriage, wife. You have a rule to follow and you might as well get on with it so we can move on.”

Hermione blinked a few times, wrapping her mind around that. She had a rule to follow. A rule set down by a husband for his wife. His wife, who had to obey or else be punished. The rule being number three on the list, that she had to perform fellatio before she could leave their bed. She, Hermione, the wife, had to suck her husband’s cock and then swallow his cum. 

Her whole body went rigid, trying not to panic over the fact that she had never done this before and was now being forced into it. But it was fine. No big deal. If this is what was required to pass the class, she could suck it up and get it over with.

She used a hand to prop her up, the blanket sliding down to reveal the simple silk she’d gone to bed in. She immediately pulled the blanket back up, not because she was embarrassed, but because showing off her body wasn’t required by the rules. Hermione would protect herself as long as she could, even if that meant she’d only get another minute of modesty.

It didn’t escape her that Draco’s eyes hadn’t left her the entire time. First watching the panic flit across her face, then the shaking in her hand as she pushed herself up, and then the glimpse of a supple breast through the vee of nightwear as she scrambled to cover up.

But instead of commenting, Draco finally pushed the comforter down, revealing the silky underwear he’d gone to sleep in, now tented. His eyes settled on Hermione, but she couldn’t help but to stare at his lap. Then, finally, he slid his underwear down just enough to allow his erection to spring free.

Hermione’s eyes widened marginally at how thick he was. She swallowed as he gripped himself, giving a few lazy pumps and producing a glistening drop of precum from his efforts. Or maybe from her gaze, which hadn’t flicked away for even a second. She had to convince herself that she could do this. It didn’t matter that he was bigger than she had imagined–not to say that she had imagined him like this–or that she had never done this before. Gaining experience to better please one’s future husband was part of the reason all of this was required! So if Hermione did an absolutely terrible job, that was fine.  

“What are you thinking?” Draco asked, voice soft in the still darkened room.

“Nothing,” she answered too quickly, eyes meeting his and then falling back to his crotch, where his erection bobbed with her renewed attention.

His whole body tensed at her answer and he removed his hand from himself, clenching it into a fist for just a moment before reaching for her. Hermione had frozen too, not sure what he planned. Gently, Draco grabbed her chin, lifting her face until she met his eyes. She could see them hardening, not quite the ice that she expected, but far less relaxed than they’d been only moments before.

“You lied, Hermione.” It didn't matter that the words were calm and his tone even. Hermione felt like she’d been slapped.

She had lied. She wasn’t thinking nothing. She was never thinking nothing!

Her mouth opened as she took a few breaths too quickly and lifted her hand, spotting the ring exactly where she remembered spinning it continuously around her finger the night before.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to!” The words were too quick and mashed together. She opened her mouth to try and repeat them more clearly but he spoke before she could.

“I know you didn’t.” 

Hermione let out an unexpected sigh of relief followed by a shaky breath in. He understood! It was going to be okay.

“I asked a normal enough question, and you gave the automatic answer you would to anyone.” She nodded as well as she could with his grip still holding her chin. “But I’m not just anyone, and you are well aware of the rules.”

Hermione’s stomach dropped, dread winding up her spine. How had this happened just minutes into their marriage?

“I’ll have to punish you, Hermione.”

Hermione could feel the water gathering in her eyes at the terror overcoming her. What was Draco going to do? How would he punish her? She closed her eyes, hoping it would help keep the tears in.

“Lay across my lap,” he commanded, still calm as he released her chin. 

Her eyes sprang open, glancing down to his lap where his erection still stood against his abdomen and then back up to meet his eyes.

“Do I need to set a time limit for you to obey by?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She shook her head violently, using her other trembling hand to push herself up to her knees, the cover falling away. Hermione was grateful his gaze remained locked on her face instead of dropping the view of her breasts through the cut of the babydoll. She crawled forward, aware that he could see straight down her top now if he chose. Carefully, she landed her hands on his far side and lowered herself down a bit.

“All the way down, Hermione. Lay your legs out flat.”

His hand landed gently on her back, the material there already having bunched up, fully exposing the underwear that failed to fully cover her. Draco's gentle pressure encouraged her down. His cock twitched beneath her as her bare hip slid along it. Who would have guessed that would be the first part of her to touch his cock?

“Good,” he said, sliding his hand from her back down, over her exposed skin and to the hem of her panties. His other hand mirrors on her other side, both thumbs hooking into the top. “These are coming down-” 

“No, please!” she interrupted his warning, starting to lift back off his lap. Hand on her hips kept her in place, pulling her even more firmly against his straining dick. His hips lifted in a singular rut, and Hermione sucked in a breath. She couldn't figure out if it was more fear or anticipation she was feeling.

“Any time I have to spank you it will always be on your bare bottom,” he continued as if she hadn't interrupted.

“But-”

“Hermione.” His voice seemed to strain with that one word. “You're about to put my dick in your mouth, and it's your own nudity that you're worried about? Do you realize how ridiculous that is?”

He didn't give her a chance to think, let alone answer, quickly tugging her revealing excuse for underwear halfway down her thighs, exposing the naked globes of her ass to him. His dick twitched again, making Hermione blush and bury her face in the mattress at this latest humiliation.

A hand settled on her back again, making her jump. “You have to calm down, Hermione.” How did he still sound so relaxed? He was hard, his erection trapped between them, and now he had her ass within his grasp. He was about to spank her–cause her pain, when he specifically said he didn't want to do–on their very first morning as husband and wife. Shouldn't he sound freaked out or excited or something? To Hermione, it sounded like this was just a run-of-the-mill day for him. Maybe it was.

His hand began rubbing circles on her back. “Punishment is required when rules are broken or else you’ll never learn. But I’m not a monster.” Hermione thought she heard a break in his level tone, as if he needed to convince himself of that too. “I’m not about to beat you. This is a simple and quick spanking for a very slight and accidental rule break. Just breathe. When I’m done, all is forgiven and we move past it.”

The circles continued and Hermione felt her body start to relax with the repetitive motion. And then his hand slid lower, down one ass cheek and then up the other. Hermione went tense again, but at least had rid herself of the shaking. He repeated the motion a few times more before stopping his hand in place.

“I’m only spanking you five times, Hermione.” As soon as the final word was out, Draco lifted his hand and smacked it down in the center of her left asscheek. The impact took her breath away. And before she could really even register the sting, his hand landed on her other cheek, making her gasp.

He rubbed each cheek for a moment. “See, you can handle this, Hermione.”

She was surprised to find his words reassuring. She could handle this. They were basically halfway through. 

And then her thoughts were interrupted by another swat, harder this time. Or did it just seem that way because she was already aching from the first two? And then the fourth and fifth landed in rapid succession, a squeak escaping her with the final blow. 

Hermione buried her head so she could pretend she was hiding. She had just survived her very first spanking. It was humiliating, degrading, and…not as painful as Hermione had anticipated. With Draco now rubbing soothingly over the heated flesh she might even say it had felt…arousing. But only just.

“All right?” Draco asked, still rubbing, soothing. She honestly wouldn’t have expected it from him. 

She nodded, face still pressed into the mattress. 

His hand paused, gripping her cheek lightly. “When I ask you a question you will answer me with words or I’ll take it as a lie and punish you. Now,” he released her, continuing his stroking, “are you all right?” He enunciated every syllable, ensuring she understood the question and had no excuse not to follow directions.

Hermione turned her head towards him to free the side of her face, allowing him to hear her answer, “Yes,” and see the flush spread across her face.

Draco’s eyes had thawed, all hints of his usual prattish self fallen back away. His dick twitched again, reminding her of the position they were still in. “Up,” he commanded, hands falling away from her.

She raised onto her hands and knees, quickly crawling back a bit to pull her underwear into place. He watched her, hand having returned to slowly stroking himself. When he caught her eye he shifted his gaze down to his lap, a clear invitation for her to start sucking him off. While she was still afraid, the punishment had taken an edge off the terror. She was no longer shaking as she reached forward. Draco’s hand fell away, giving her free reign. She glanced back up, finding Draco’s eyes still on her. When she hesitated he didn’t demand she get a move on or shove her head down on him. Either would have been expected.

But he just waited. Perhaps she needed to reevaluate her expectations of him.

Hermione slipped her hand around his erection, feeling it twitch at the contact. It was just as smooth as she expected. An experimental squeeze produced an audible exhale from Draco. He gave her a few more seconds to explore and grow more comfortable before reminding her of her intentions.

With a finger, he lifted her chin to meet her eyes again. “Mouth, Hermione,” he whispered, trailing his thumb along her lips and then pulling away again. She bit her bottom lip before breaking eye contact and lowering her head down.

She licked the tip, timidly. It was more a press of her tongue than an actual lick, but immediately her tongue was retreating back into her mouth.

“Hermione.” She jumped, having not expected anymore from him now that she was finally here. Was he going to demand that she get on with it? “Have you done this before?”

She looked up at him, almost shaking her head to answer before remembering his newest stipulation; she had to use words. “I…have touched a penis before,” she answered, knowing it hadn’t been what he was asking. 

“And have you ever sucked a cock before? Have you given a blow job?”

Hermione looked away, embarrassed by her inexperience. It was stupid to feel that way. She’d already told him she was a virgin. Was it really so different to admit this? “No,” she answered, shaking her head.

After that admission, Hermione didn’t know what to expect, especially when all such thoughts on his actions had been wrong thus far. Maybe Draco would reprimand her for her ignorance. Would he call her a prude? Or did this meet his expectation for a girl with frizzy hair and buck teeth? Possibly, though, he would be understanding, if this last day together was teaching her anything.

Hermione didn’t anticipate him wrapping his hand around hers on his dick and sliding them down to the base of his cock. He applied a firmer pressure than she had been doing, too.

“Head back down, Hermione. I’ll tell you what to do, and we’ll work you up to you taking more of me another day. You have plenty of time to learn.”

Hermione’s mouth opened, pleased but still shocked that her final guess had been correct. Draco was being very considerate and furthering his claim that he wasn’t a monster. After their meeting with Professor Compton, Hermione had absolutely assumed he’d be shoving her head down this first morning, making her choke on his cock, crying when she couldn’t breath. 

But the idea of working towards something like that was…intriguing. 

“Mouth open is a good first step, but you still have to lower your head.”

Hermione blushed, her mouth snapping shut. And then down she went.

“Lick the tip, mmm,” he hummed, sending a thrill through Hermione. She had caused that. “Now start lower, lick to the tip again. Mmm, good.” Again, the hum made her shiver, but the almost purr in his praise had Hermione’s stomach clenching. 

“Open up now, Hermione. You’re taking me shallow today, understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered before finally closing her lips around his head.

He continued instructing her, explaining everything he wanted her to do. Eventually his hand over hers started moving too, making up for what she wasn’t yet ready to take. The reminder of this kindness almost made her cry, but then he muttered more praise, telling her how good she was doing, and the tears were forgotten in favor of the heat his words sent down her body.

“Oh, fuck, Hermione, keep doing that,” he demanded and Hermione obeyed. “About to come. Swallow it all, Hermione.” The words were rushed and Hermione deciphered what he was saying just as his body tensed and the first hot spurt of his cum shot into her mouth.

She swallowed once easily enough, but he kept filling her mouth to the point where it felt like there was nowhere for it to go. Hermione choked, trying to get it down, making her cough and forcing some of his cum to seep past her lips.

“Suction your lips and pull off of me. It’ll be easier to swallow.” He shuddered as she did so, and Hermione noted his oversensitivity.

“Now lick up what you spilled,” he said, nodding down at the mess she’d leaked. When she just stared, he clarified. “If you don’t swallow every drop then it’s another rule infraction and I'm pulling you back over my knee. And every time I have to spank you it’ll be harder and more . Do you understand?”

She started nodding and his eyes hardened, making her quickly blurt out, “Yes!”

Hermione bent back over his lap, licking up her mess and trying not to gag. Somehow this was much more difficult than swallowing the initial bit. It had cooled, the texture was thicker. Hermione decided she wouldn’t let this happen next time. Or at least she hoped she could manage it all tomorrow.

When she’d swallowed the last bit of him and pulled back, he finally released her hand.

—

“I’m home, darling wife!” Draco proclaimed as the door shut behind him. 

Hermione sat up, abandoning her work for the time being. “Laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

He set his bag on the table and removed his cloak. “Not at all. In fact I’m wounded that you didn’t greet me, your husband, in a similarly enthusiastic manner.”

Hermione cocked her head. “Right.” She turned back to her books.

“And how was your day?” he asked, moving around behind her.

“It was fine.”

The movement stopped, and then, exasperated, Draco asked, “And what did you do all day?”

Hermione turned toward him again at that, brows furrowed. “Why are you asking?”

Draco closed his eyes and grabbed the bridge of his nose, slightly shaking his head. “I’m inquiring about your welfare because I’m your husband. I’m checking in on you, making sure everything in your world is going well, and seeing if you need anything that I can assist you with. Like a good husband is supposed to do based on the months we were stuck in the classroom listening to Compton drone on.”

He came around the couch then, sitting on the empty side. “I’m paying you attention, dearest wife. Perhaps you could look away from your very important studies for just a minute to afford me the same courtesy.”

Ashamed, Hermione put her quill down and turned to properly face him. “I apologize, Draco. You’re right. You’re properly trying to complete this project and I was unnecessarily rude.” She took a deep breath, resolving to try harder. If Draco was going to be civil, she certainly could be. “Can we start over? Welcome home, my adoring husband. I’m so glad you’ve returned.” She lacked the expected enthusiasm, but knew she’d have another chance to do better tomorrow. And the day after that. And for what felt like forever at this point.

“Ah, thank you, Hermione. Have you been here studying the whole time?” He gestured to her books on the table and Hermione followed the motion. 

It took her too long to answer, momentarily thrown by how absolutely normal this conversation was. “Oh, uh, no. I spent some time in the library earlier. And I had to track down Professor Flitwick about a few things.”

“Meet up with any friends in the library?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Finish that potions essay?”

“Of course.”

“Discuss your marital project?”

“Well, not really. It came up but we kept everything really vague, since we’re not allowed to discuss details.”

“That’s good. And who did you touch?”

Hermione froze at that, eyes widening. Draco’s face was still calm and open. Was this a test? “I…I touched Neville.” She dropped her eyes to the hands in her lap, trying to stop them from shaking. She was about to be punished. Was his cheery attitude just to allow him to blindside her like this?

“I see.” Hermione could feel Draco’s eyes still on her as she stewed in the knowledge she had done something wrong. That she kept doing things wrong. She was already terrible at being married and it was only the first day. “You are aware that touching anyone but me is against the specific rules I laid out for you.”

It wasn’t a question, but Hermione nodded jerkily anyway. “So now you’re going to tell me how and why you two touched.” Draco spoke with complete confidence that she was going to do just that. Hermione didn’t know if it was his certainty or his even tone that calmed her down more. 

No longer shaking, but still mildly afraid, Hermione did what he ordered. “Neville was feeling really down about this whole project so I just placed my hand on his for a moment to show him a bit of comfort. That’s all it was. I didn’t even realize I had done it until it was too late!”

Draco nodded at this information. “I see. Thank you for telling me honestly, Hermione.”

Hermione felt a slight blush creeping into her cheeks at that, and didn’t entirely understand why. “How did you know?” Because he clearly had based on his question.

“That you had broken a rule?” 

“Yes.”

Draco just lifted his left hand and wiggled his fingers to draw her attention to his ring. Hermione looked down at the one on her left hand in understanding.

“So it’s not just the lies.” It could also tell if she’d had contact with anyone. What other properties did this bit of metal have?

“It’s not just lies,” he confirmed.

He let them sit in silence for a minute before breaking it. “As much as I had hoped you wouldn’t need a second punishment on our first full day of this, it is very apparent that you do. If you continue this pattern we may have to install daily maintenance spankings into our marriage, just to keep you in line.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped at that, unable to fathom the daily pain he’d put her through. “No, please–”

“Stand up, Hermione,” he ordered, interrupting her but not raising his voice. He didn’t look angry that she had broken yet another rule, just resigned.

She snapped her mouth closed, and slowly did what he ordered. He shifted himself towards the middle of the couch, eyes never leaving her. “Skirt and panties off.”

Hermione’s eyes started to water. The fear of being punished and the shame of having broken the rules again so soon, twisted around her gut, making her queasy. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, slowly lowering it to the ground and stepping out. 

Draco watched her every move, eyes sliding back up to the lacy blue panties he’d picked out for her this morning. She hooked her thumbs into them next, but couldn’t bring herself to pull them down. Her face, already turned to the floor, now also turned away, not wanting her body facing his direction. 

Leaning forward, Draco reached up to grab her chin and turn her face back towards him. “Talk to me, Hermione. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She was shaking and still trying to turn her head away, but Draco’s grip didn’t give an inch. “Take a breath. I’m not punishing you until you can calm down, alright? This isn’t increasing your discipline in any way. You have time to talk to me.”

Hermione sobbed at that. Why was he so nice? Who was this person in front of her that was so understanding? Didn’t she marry Draco Malfoy? The boy who’d been tormenting her for years? The boy who had implemented these ridiculous rules and was responsible for ‘teaching her a lesson’ in being a good little witchy wife? 

But here he was, not tormenting her. Not lording the rules over her or demanding her instant obedience. Not inventing new reasons to hurt her or forcing her into unexpected situations. She had agreed to everything when she'd signed their contract. Just this morning she’d proven she could handle being punished. Draco had spanked her, and then they’d gone on with the day. Then Hermione realized they could very well be done with her latest punishment if only she’d let him carry it out immediately.

Well, maybe. Punishments could last for ages depending on what it was.

Hermione latched onto her need for information to help calm her down. Draco had been silently watching her spiral, hand still holding her in place. She swallowed and quietly asked, “What are you going to do?”

“How am I going to punish you?” he reworded and she nodded. “I’m going to spank you on your bare ass with my hand while you lay over my lap.” Hermione nodded, calming further. She could handle that. She already had handled that. “It’ll be twice as many and twice as hard as this morning. And now I’m tacking on a few extra since you just nodded to my question. You will learn to give me verbal answers, Hermione.” Hermione’s eyes widened, but he went on. “It’s not going to double every time, but if I want you to follow the rules then I have to show you what’s going to happen when you don’t.”

Hermione nodded, knowing that already, and feeling safe in the action since he hadn’t asked anything more of her. “Tell me you deserve this, Hermione. It’s the same as giving a student detention for being out of bed. They break a rule, they get punished. You broke a rule, Hermione. One you were fully aware of and agreed to follow. Do you think rules should be broken with no consequences?”

“No.” The word was barely whispered, but he heard her.

“Good. So tell me you deserve to be punished, Hermione.”

She only hesitated a little. “I deserve to be punished.” And she did. Hermione deserved to be spanked for blatantly disregarding his rules. She was not above the law…even just marital law.

“Good. Now say, ‘I deserve to be punished, however my husband sees fit, when I do something wrong.’”

Hermione repeated it, using the statement to ground herself. It was simple cause and effect. She made a mistake, and Draco was correcting her. And after this, they would move past this and Hermione would do better. She had to do better.

“Now,” he finally freed her chin and sat back, “if you’re done being too in your head about it, you’re going to pull those down.” He gestured with his free hand at the underwear she still had her thumbs in. 

Not letting herself think any further than just obeying, she jerked her panties down in a single motion, stepping out of them and finally looking away. Hermione could feel Draco eyeing her exposed pubic area, taking in what he only got a quick glimpse of this morning. 

Her face heated as he continued to stare in silence. Did he like what he saw? Was he contemplating removing all her hair? Hermione hadn’t been bare since her pubic hair had grown in. She liked to keep it short and neat, though. 

When she could take the attention no longer, Hermione moved a hand to cover herself. Draco grabbed it before she could, further adding to her embarrassment. He tugged her forward gently, pulling her to rest over his lap. Her upper body laid on the couch and she used a pillow to bury her head into. 

She jumped when his hand landed gently on her bottom, rubbing over her cheeks. Then, without a word of warning, Draco lifted his palm and smacked it down on Hermione’s ass.

A whimper was forced from her throat at the impact, and then another swat landed in the same exact spot, making her cry out.

Draco landed two identical smacks on her other side and Hermione was regretting giving Neville any comfort at all. 

The next four followed the same pattern and Hermione’s eyes began to water, gasping through the pain of every impact. He had warned her this would be worse than her last punishment, but Hermione couldn’t believe the pain radiating through her.

He paused after the eighth, rubbing over her battered ass. Hermione didn’t know where the breathy sigh came from, but her embarrassment came back with a vengeance because of it. She’d forgotten to worry about being bare while she was busy surviving Draco’s onslaught, but now it was all she could think about.

Her naked ass was sticking up for Draco to eye all he wanted. Could he see more than that? Hermione squeezed her legs together. His hand was still rubbing her sore ass, but he could so easily rub lower. Would he?

Hermione started trembling slightly, and Draco’s reaction was to immediately lift his hand and smack it down for his hardest hit yet. She shrieked, repeating the noise right after when Draco’s hand fell again. The final three bonus swats she earned landed on the crease where her ass met her thighs, providing a sharper sting and making Hermione whimper for more than one reason. 

She breathed hard, relieved to be finished. Her skin felt flushed all over like she was overheating. Draco’s soothing hand over her skin only served to heat her further. He grabbed her then, squeezing in the same place he’d landed the majority of blows. Hermione’s sharp inhale did nothing to stop him.

The way he held her cheek still made Hermione think he was looking at the space he’d opened between her legs. Would he see how her body had begun to betray her? That despite Hermione’s views and indignation of this entire project, her body was displaying physical proof that she was enjoying it? Hermione couldn’t forgive herself for being wet, and she tensed, attempting to close the gap Draco had created. He just squeezed harder in retaliation. When he released, Draco grabbed her other abused cheek, before rubbing over them once again.

“Have you learned your lesson, Hermione?” he asked, continuing his motion.

Hermione nodded, and was instantly rewarded with Draco’s hand coming down twice more in the same spot her previous nodding had landed them. She screeched, lifting herself to pull away but Draco held her in place easily. 

“I believe you’ve just proven that you have not learned your lesson.” The pressure on her back suddenly increased, holding Hermione more firmly in place. She wiggled reflexively, nerves returning at this development. 

“When I ask you a question,” he said, delivering another swat to her stinging upper thighs. “You. Will. Answer. With. Words.” Every word was punctuated with another slap, each harder than the previous. She was thrashing, attempting to rip herself free of his hold, but the hand on her back remained unyielding for the duration of her punishment. Tears fell from Hermione’s eyes with the final swat.

“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, wiping her face on the pillow.

The pressure lifted from her back, his hand joining the other in rubbing her backside. “I know you are, Hermione. You’re forgiven.”

Somehow, that made her cry harder. That Hermione had continued to make one mistake after another, and instead of becoming cross with her, Draco was correcting her blunders and then letting them go. He shushed her softly, rubbing over the area with the most abuse, his fingertips sliding along her inner thighs and making her breath hitch. If he felt her shame there he didn’t comment on it, just continuing the same pattern until Hermione had stopped crying and her body relaxed.

“Alright,” Draco said, patting her bum lightly, “up.” 

Hermione pushed herself to her knees, using a hand to cover her pubes as she stood on shaky legs. She bent to grab her skirt, pausing at the commanding, “Stop,” from beside her. “Sit back down, just as you are.”

She allowed herself one frustrated breath before doing as she was told, settling both hands in her lap to provide as much modesty as she could.

Meanwhile, Draco unfastened his own pants, pulling them and his underwear down just enough to pull his erection and balls free of their confines.

Hermione’s eyes went wide. What did Draco think he was doing? Why was he hard right now? Did he enjoy hurting her like this, or was it a sick fascination with forcing nudity on her? She opened her mouth with the intention of asking something, and just left it open when she couldn’t decide what exactly she wanted to ask first.

“Is that your way of expressing your desire to suck me off again?” he asked, nodding to her mouth. She closed it abruptly. “Because you’ll be doing that every morning as it is.”

He gave himself a lazy stroke, just watching her. Hermione blinked a few times, wondering if he was waiting for her to ask one of her burning questions.

“What are you…I mean why are you…?” Hermione trailed off, not entirely sure what to ask, and somewhat entranced by the repetitive motion of his hand.

He sighed, apparently put out to have to explain. “Rule number 4, Hermione.”

She knew the rules by heart, despite what it seemed by her constantly breaking them. He was to use her body however he wanted to get off before bed. Hermione only realized right then that nowhere did it say it had to be right before sleeping, only that it had to occur sometime before bed.

Her chin trembled as she dropped her eyes back to her lap where her bare legs reminded her that he hadn’t allowed her to redress. So this is it then, she thought. Draco was going to fuck her and take her virginity and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. 

A silent tear slid down her cheek.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Draco’s hand wiped the tear away and turned her chin, once again, to face him. Roughly, he said, “You’re going to stop whatever you’re thinking right this second. In fact, you’re going to stop all your thoughts going forward about whatever you expect in regards to me, understand?”

He let go of her then, placing his hand on his own chest. “ I, as your husband, haven't done a single thing to warrant your reactions. I have not raped you. I have not used you to satisfy my every whim. I have not turned you into my personal slave to wait on me hand and foot. I have not harmed you outside of the scope of our agreement. And all of that is within my rights to do as your husband, and yet I have not!”

He took a breath and Hermione could see his features evening out back into the calm she had begun to anticipate from his features. He leaned forward into her space, his gaze holding her in place. “I have not so much as kissed you without your permission, Hermione.” His eyes dropped to her lips and darted back up. “So, perhaps going forward you could give me the benefit of the doubt instead of jumping to the worst possible conclusions about me. And, here’s a wild idea. Maybe communicate what you’re thinking and worried about and ask me to clarify things to see if there’s anything for you to freak out about.”

He sat back then, still watching her. It took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to acknowledge what he’d said. She started to nod and then stopped, remembering he wanted words from her. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I…will remember that I can talk to you when I'm feeling anxious.”

Under his breath he uttered, “Thank Merlin,” before saying, louder, “Good. The next time I have to force you to talk to me like this, you will be punished. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, scoot closer to me.” Draco’s hand dropped down to his cock which had waned significantly during their conversation. He fondled himself, bringing it back to life before Hermione’s eyes. “Give me your hand.”

He held his palm out for hers, and she asked, “What do you want my hand for? How are we going to be…carrying out rule 4 today?”

“I thought it would be good to begin with a good old fashioned handjob. Give me your hand, Hermione.” 

She did so that time, not wanting to test his patience any further tonight. He proceeded to wrap her hand around his erection, and laid his own over hers, much as he had this morning. The hand between them landed on her thigh, caressing the smooth skin there. Together they moved, Draco showing her exactly how he liked it. Hermione found that she was fascinated by the process. The way he would twitch beneath her palm or the breathy sigh when they’d gone over just the right spot at the exact right speed. He squeezed her thigh occasionally, another sign of his pleasure, each time slipping his hand higher and more inwards. With every move, Hermione’s breath caught, upping her arousal.

When Draco’s body tensed up, eyes closing and head falling back, Hermione was absolutely riveted by the streams of cum shooting up and falling back down to their hands. She’d been so focused on the show that she hadn’t even realized Draco’s final squeeze of her thigh had been high enough to just barely brush one of her pussy lips as he pulled away.

He freed her hand on his softening cock at the same time. Draco grabbed his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell to rid them both of his mess, and then began righting his clothes. He nodded to hers on the ground, allowing her to finally cover herself.

He didn’t mention his hand on her and what he might have felt there and neither did Hermione. Before he could change his mind, Hermione grabbed her clothes and retreated to the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Sunday started much the same as the previous day. Hermione woke first, and watched the relaxed face of the boy she was tethered to. She wanted to run her hands through the soft golden strands on his head but withheld. 

Draco opened his eyes shortly after, but didn’t take the time to watch her back this time. Instead he stretched–the motion drawing Hermione's eyes to his toned shoulders once again–and sat up against the headboard, pulling his underwear down as he did so. He was already hard–Hermione would never understand how morning wood worked–and wrapped his hand around his length. After a single stroke he angled his cock towards her and lifted an eyebrow.

Hermione blew out a breath, not needing more explicit directions to know what he wanted; brightest witch of her age and all that. She pushed to her knees and pulled her blanket up over her shoulders, taking the warm cocoon with her as she positioned herself to take him. 

A lick of his tip had Draco closing his eyes and leaning back. “Your hand today,” he instructed, letting his own fall away. Hermione grabbed the base of his cock and then slid just his head into her mouth, running her tongue along the bottom seam of it and then circling around it. 

Tentatively, Hermione sucked more of him into her mouth. It only took a moment to figure out how to move her hand in tandem with her mouth, eliciting a moan above her that sent sparks shooting through her. She continued to work, chasing more of that sound, enjoying proof that she was doing this well enough. 

His hand landed gently on her head, startling her and ruining the rhythm she’d found. A gentle push got her going again, and he let off the pressure, stroking her curls back from her face. Hermione tried to glance up when one particularly obstructive strand was moved, meeting his eyes briefly, and finding the sound he made just then entirely too thrilling.

“Good, Hermione. Don’t stop.”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed at the praise, putting her entire focus into the feel of his cock in her mouth, the slide of her tongue along the smooth skin, the hint of precum that dribbled out occasionally, and the pressure of her hand squeezing his base and moving with her mouth.

“ Fuck, Hermione,” Draco breathed, fingers gripping at her scalp. 

It was all the warning she got before he was filling her mouth faster than she could swallow him down. She continued sucking as he’d instructed the previous morning, until a shiver running up his body signaled his completion. Hermione pulled off of him then, making sure she took every drop of his cum with her this time, meeting his eyes as she swallowed the final bit.

His eyes dropped to her mouth as his finger crooked under her chin, the pad of his thumb rubbing over her lips before pulling at the bottom one. “Open,” he ordered softly. 

Hermione did so, lifting her head to give him a good view without further instruction. She stuck her tongue out just a bit, flicking against the tip of his thumb and watching his eye trace the motion. “Good girl,” he commended, meeting her eyes again in time for her stomach to flutter at the words. Her cheeks were too warm, and Hermione only hoped the muted morning light was hiding the color blooming there. 

Draco released her and Hermione closed her mouth, biting at her lip where his thumb had been. Why did she miss the warmth of his hands on her?

—

They opted for lunch in the Great Hall that day before meeting afterwards. They were supposed to spend the majority of time outside of classes together, and since they’d opted for some space yesterday, were forced to remain together now.

Draco turned towards the dungeons instead of the stairs upwards. At Hermione’s questioning look he explained he needed to stop by Slytherin first. Having no pressing reason to hurry them to their seclusion, Hermione followed him without complaint. When they approached the wall that guarded the entrance, Hermione chuckled, “I can’t wait to hear what you lot are using for a password.”

Draco opened his mouth to answer, before closing it and furrowing his brow. He looked between her and the blank wall before them before turning fully to face her. “You already know this is the entrance.”

It wasn’t a question, so Hermione didn’t need to answer. She smirked, thrilled to have surprised him with this. 

“ How did you know?”

“Oh, just prefect privileges.” Hermione shrugged, her response coming automatically.

It wasn’t until Draco’s gaze darkened that Hermione realized her mistake, her own face falling in response. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth as if that could prevent the lie from condemning her.

“I don’t even need the ring to know that one was a lie. Or did you forget I’m also a prefect? Common room locations aren’t in our purview.”

“Draco, no, I’m sorry, I-”

“Stop.” Hermione obeyed the command immediately. He turned back towards the wall. “Wait here.” Draco spoke the password and disappeared into the revealed passageway.

Hermione cursed herself internally, her eyes beginning to water in frustration. Never in her life had she so thoughtlessly broken so many rules. She hadn't even realized what a liar she’d become until this weekend. When had so much of her life become shrouded with so many secrets that her instinctive response was to spout one falsity after another?

She only had a few minutes to let her thoughts spiral before the wall melted away once again to reveal Draco coming towards her. Hermione blinked rapidly, hoping to disperse any evidence that she'd been on the verge of crying. He stopped too close to her, but Hermione didn’t let herself back away. He leaned in, whispering in her ear, “When we get back home, you’re going to bare yourself for me and bend over the arm of the couch. Understood?”

Hermione was frozen at his declaration, both with fear and something entirely different at the ghosting of his breath across the side of her neck. 

“Yes.” Her answer was barely more than a breath, but at least she’d done more than nod her head, which only would have aggravated him more.

Draco stepped back and set a brisk pace out of the dungeon. Head down, Hermione followed.

The memory of that puff along her neck kept playing repeatedly with tingles across her skin. His face had never been so close to her, and Hermione didn’t know if she was more afraid or excited about the prospect of him doing it again. And she'd never had this sort of forewarning for a punishment. The anticipation made it worse. Tirelessly Hermione contemplated how hard he would spank her and how many times. A very small voice hidden deep in the back of her head also considered how often he got her half naked. Surely he must like what he saw to keep demanding it if her.

Entirely too soon, Draco was ushering Hermione through their door ahead of him. They hadn’t spoken a word the entire walk, which only served to ramp up Hermione's terror. She’d never seen Draco angry like this. Not with her…which she realized didn't amount to very much experience at all. But still, every time he’d punished her so far–and somehow that was far too many times for their short time together thus far–he’d been very calm about the whole process. What would he do now that she’d managed to ruffle his unflappable calm. 

Wasting no time, Hermione went to the couch and refused to let herself think about the embarrassment or indignation as she lowered her pants and underwear–a frilly black piece that only covered half of her–to the floor. She stepped out of them, and with a last deep breath, settled herself over the arm of the couch. It was far more uncomfortable than she’d anticipated. The arm dug into her lower abdomen, it was high enough that she was forced to be on the tips of her toes, and Hermione was all too aware how very exposed she was in this position.

Over Draco’s lap, he’d had full access to her butt, but her legs were always together, protecting her. But at this new angle, Hermione could feel the air on her pussy lips, meaning Draco would have a clear view of them.

Too busy squirming looking for a bit of comfort in the position, Hermione hadn’t even heard Draco follow her to the couch. She shrieked at his first swat, more surprised than hurt. With no time to even process that her punishment was beginning without a single word from him, Draco began raining blows down on her ass.

It hurt, unsurprisingly, but what bothered Hermione more was the unpredictable pattern he’d begun. For a few hits he’d go back and forth between her cheeks, then he might smack the same spot several times in a row. Every so often he aimed lower, spanking her thighs for an extra shock of pain. The time between swats varied, sometimes hitting in rapid succession, and sometimes pausing between blows. 

Hermione’s eyes started watering from the pain, but even more, from something she hadn’t expected. Every time Draco had spanked her before had been short and scary, distracting her from anything but how it would hurt. But with the continuous onslaught this time, Hermione had begun to feel something else too. 

Through the pain, was the barest hint of pleasure. A swat that would make her gasp rather than squeak. The way Draco’s hand would linger unpredictably, caressing her abused flesh. The fact that she was so exposed and at his mercy spoke to the part of her that was so tired of being expected to take charge of everything–keeping on top of assignments and notes for the boys as well as revising for them, making sure they ate and slept when they should, keeping them alive on far too regular of a basis. 

The attention she alone was receiving was something completely foreign to her. Even among her friends, things were never about her. Not really, anyway. But Draco had every part of his being focused on her. And not just now, but this whole time. He set rules and checked in on her and showed that Hermione and her actions actually mattered to him.

She was glad to be facing away so Draco couldn’t see her face which was surely as red as her ass right now. Hermione was almost enjoying this.

Here and there she threw out an apology, trying to bring this punishment to a close before she began bawling or Draco noticed the evidence of her feelings on the situation. “Draco, please! I’m sorry!”

He stopped abruptly, stepping away so Hermione knew this wasn’t just another pause before the next strike. She nearly sobbed with relief, not sure how much more of this she could take. Draco had dragged this punishment far past the others she'd received, and the lack of insight as to when it would end had made it all the more difficult. The only sound in the room was Hermione’s labored breathing while she laid limp over the arm of the couch, no longer bothered by it digging into her.

And then she heard rustling behind her. The metal clang of a buckle being unfastened, and the sound of a belt being pulled through loops. Dread washed over Hermione at this turn of events and she forced her body up and backed away from him.

“Please, no! Draco, please! I’m sorry. Please. Spanking was enough, you don’t have to fuck me too. I’ll do better!” She was babbling through her fear. Just because her punishment had been marginally turning her on, and he had likely seen the evidence of that, didn’t mean she wanted his cock anywhere near her.

Draco stopped with his belt half removed as his face hardened beyond what her lie had done to him. “Take off everything.”

The command was so cold, Hermione wasn’t sure she’d even heard correctly. “What?”

“ Strip , Hermione. Do not make me say it again.” Each word was enunciated so clearly, lending to the chill in his tone. 

Her whole body trembled, tears renewing as they spilled from her eyes. She grabbed the hem of her sweater with both hands, to show her compliance, but had to ask, quietly, “Why?”

“Ah, so you do remember you can ask questions, instead of assuming the worst of me?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I told you you’d be punished next time you did this, yes?” Draco didn’t wait for her answer before continuing. “So your punishment is to be completely nude for the remainder of today and all of tomorrow while in our dwelling. You will not be allowed a single scrap of fabric to hide your body from me. Except to sleep, you’ll be allowed no blankets or pillows or anything else to cover up with. Perhaps if you see that I won’t assault you at the first sign of skin, you’ll stop expecting me to.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say to that. She absolutely hated the idea that she would be even more exposed and helpless before him, but she had to admit the punishment made sense towards accomplishing his goal for her. With one quick motion Hermione had her sweater over her head, leaving the lacy bralette he’d chosen.

“And,” Hermione swallowed, her mouth dry from her panic, “why are you taking off your belt?”

Draco had finished removing it while they spoke, holding it doubled up in his hand. He lifted it up and, with a jerk of his hand, brought the belt down on his other arm that he held out towards her. Her eyes went wide at the implication.

“You’re…you’re going to…to me? ”

“I am going to spank you with my belt just as soon as you finish removing your clothes as I’ve told you to do.”

Hermione cringed away, having not even considered the possibility of being spanked by anything other than Draco’s hand. They’d gone over several spanking implements in class, but Draco seemed to have a preference and Hermione had stupidly assumed he wouldn’t deviate from that.

But at least she now knew he wasn’t planning on taking advantage of her in that way.

Keeping her eyes downcast, Hermione finally removed her bra, leaving herself fully exposed to her husband. To her immense relief, Draco didn’t take the time to study her every curve or freckle. As soon as she’d completed his task he told her to resume her position on the couch. 

Hermione laid in her spot again, breasts feeling heavy and awkward with gravity pulling them from a new angle. She was surprised when Draco’s feet nudged between hers. “Spread your legs wider,” he instructed. Hermione absolutely did not want to do that, but complied silently, feeling the slickness between her thighs as they separated. She silently hoped he was too busy punishing her to notice. Satisfied, Draco removed his foot and stepped back. 

She heard the whistling approach of the belt as it swung through the air, but the warning didn’t help. The stinging stripe of the belt across her ass was more intense and more concentrated than the swats from Draco’s hand. 

Hermione jumped to her feet with a yell, rubbing at the pain in her ass. She turned to face him, already forgetting how exposed she was. He looked at her then, taking a moment to eye her chest before she noticed and spun away from his view.

“Lay back down, Hermione. If you get up again it will only be worse for you.”

Hermione whimpered. She’d become complacent, almost beginning to like the version of Draco she was married to. Today, he was showing her that he was just as cold and cruel as he always had been. Draco had fooled her; shame on her. Hermione bent back over the couch and grabbed the cushion below, hoping to hold herself in place.

Again, the whistle and the lash, nearly in the same spot as the last. Hermione’s eyes began to water as her back arched. She’d been on the verge of enjoying this before, but with only two hits from Draco’s belt Hermione knew she wouldn’t be holding back tears for much longer.

“What do you think, Hermione? Will this punishment get through to you better? Do you think if you’re reminded of this every time you sit for a while you’ll be able to recall that I’ll accept nothing but the truth from you?”

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but the third blow interrupted, forcing a shriek out of her instead. The first pained tear fell as she stuttered out, “Yes.”

The fourth blow landed on her thighs and had her curling her legs up to block any more blows. “Please, Draco!” she sobbed. “Please, that’s enough!”

The belt hit the soles of her feet then and she shrieked. “Any attempt to block will just have me spread the pain to other areas.”

Sobs wracked her body as Hermione slowly lowered her body back down. The moment her toes touched the ground another stripe of pain sliced through her.

“Maybe if bruising doesn’t help you remember, I’ll have to change up punishments.” Another sting of the belt. “What was it people most voted in class for a similar crime? Oh, right. Maybe next time I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth since it’s the offender. Force my cock way beyond your comfort and into your throat? Hold you there, unable to breathe, while I use you.” The belt came down again. “Is that more in line with what you’re expecting from me, Hermione? Is that what you want?”

The belt landed again just as she was speaking, turning her, “No!” into a wet yell. “ Please! I’m sorry!”

Draco struck her thighs again and Hermione squealed. Another followed immediately in the same spot and Hermione’s cries turned to sobs.

A long exhale from Draco seemed to announce the end of her punishment. She heard him step away but couldn’t bring herself to turn and look. Was he getting something else to spank her with?

He returned shortly, walking around her to sit in the middle of the couch. “Come here, Hermione.” His voice was much softer now, back to exuding the calm she’d come to expect from him. 

Hermione lifted her head from where it was buried in the cushions, eyeing him. His palms rested flat on his lap, proving to her he held nothing else to harm her with. But Hermione had to be sure before she could force her body up. 

“Why?” she asked, hesitant.

Draco reached for a jar he’d laid on the coffee table. She hadn’t noticed it with her fixation of Draco. “I’m going to rub some of this on you. It’ll help.”

Hermione nodded her understanding before slowly pushing her body off the couch. She felt sore all over after bracing for impact so many times. With the pain, she’d once again forgotten her nudity, not thinking to cover her breasts as she stepped around to Draco. She placed a knee on the couch beside him to lower herself over his lap as she’d now done entirely too often.

A twist of the lid later, Draco showed her the blue cream inside the jar. He scooped some out and set the container on the couch beside himself. “Lay down,” he instructed, referring to her lifted head. “Relax. No more crying. You've taken your punishment well and all is forgiven.”

Hermione couldn't believe how light she felt at his words. He’d said something similar the day before, but apparently Hermione had fully bought into it before. She was forgiven! This mistake wasn't going to hang over her head and cause unforeseen problems down the line. She wouldn't be watching over her shoulder for when the other shoe would drop. She broke a rule, she atoned, and now she would be allowed to move on. It caused her tears to renew.

“Shh,” he soothed. “Tell me the real answer from earlier. How did you know about the Slytherin entrance?”

Hermione started speaking, pausing for a moment when the cool cream first made contact with her burning ass. Draco rubbed it around gently as he listened to her tale from second year. The cream provided much needed relief to her heated skin, while not actually removing the pain itself. But it was Draco’s motions that really served to calm her. The repetitive strokes brought her a peace and comfort that she should have expected as he’d done similar things to calm her before disciplinary sessions.

But this was different. Hermione expected to resent Draco for his harsh treatment of her and to shy away from his touch. Instead, she found herself trying to lengthen her story if only to keep his hands on her longer. She felt her arousal return, burning low in her belly. She thought it dispersed with the increase in pain, but it seemed only to have been waiting instead.

Her tale finished, Draco rubbed down to her thighs and on his way back up, lifted her butt cheeks apart, holding them there. Hermione’s body tensed at the action.

“You’re wet, Hermione.” She didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He let the silence hang for a moment before releasing her cheeks and continuing to rub. His motions began to include her inner thighs too, never high enough to touch where she needed–and dreaded–most.

“You've been wet for some time; you seem to like being spanked.”

She swallowed, not sure where this was going. Hermione knew it was an impossible hope for him to not have noticed.

“Do you?”

Hermione paled. She hadn't expected him to actually ask her, and now she had no choice but to answer. She didn’t know if her ass could take any more punishment right then should she refuse, or worse, lie. “Sometimes,” she answered, feeling it was as true as she could get.

Draco’s only answer was to lift her cheeks apart again, fingers even closer to her core then.

“Fuck, your pussy is so pretty. Did you know that?” Hermione had not. No one besides Draco had ever seen all of her this way. How could anyone have told her? She was spared having to answer when he went on. “You’re soaked. Your lips are shining. Let me touch you, Hermione.”

It wasn’t a question. She didn't have to answer. 

But, Merlin, she had never been so turned on in her life! Here she was, naked, over the lap of her husband who she was being forced into very close quarters with, with his very apparent boner held back by a thin bit of fabric or two. She had thoroughly been punished by the very hand that then soothed her. The hand that had calmed her several times in the past 2 days. Attached to the man who looked at her and actually saw her. Draco acted like she was actually worth his time and attention and she had never felt such intense attentiveness in her life.

And the way he was still looking at her. She couldn’t see him with her head still buried in the couch, but why else would he still be holding her ass like that? Hermione could feel his gaze and her face burned because of it. That he actually enjoyed the sight of her.

As she opened her mouth to acquiesce, Draco released her, hands falling to his sides. “You can get up now.” She was too late. 

Hermione pushed herself to her knees but before she could step off the couch, Draco halted her with a finger crooked under her chin. “I won’t touch you until you let me, Hermione. You only have to say the word.” And then he let her go.

Hermione fled the living area, needing some space from the way his eyes pierced right through her. The moment she reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind her, giving herself some privacy.

—

Hermione didn’t stay locked away too long, afraid Draco would decide to come in after her, and who knew what would happen if he did? So she returned to the living area a short time later, having removed evidence of tear streaks from her eyes and calmed her pulse. There was nothing more to do for the marks across her backside than what Draco had already done. The cream would prevent scarring, but left the mottled bruises–and their accompanying pain–intact.

Draco turned from the book he was holding as she entered the room. Hermione moved her arms to cover herself automatically, but the hardening look on his face stopped her. She wasn’t allowed to hide. This was part of her punishment. 

She took a deep breath and dropped her arms. Draco nodded his approval, face relaxing. He continued to stare, letting his eyes travel the length of her body as she stepped around the couch. It was his first real look at her breasts. Hermione’s chest was on the smaller side of average, her nipples were petite but poked out more often than not. Her dark pink areolas were too deep a shade for her pale skin tone—or at least she thought so. The look of want on Draco's face warped her certainty. 

She made as if to sit down in the squishy armchair to read like he was doing on the couch but Draco sat forward, stopping her.

“Turn for me.” Hermione froze, swallowing. Slowly, she followed his command, half terrified he only wanted her to present her backside to reign further blows down upon her. She racked her brain trying to come up with what she had done now.

But Draco didn’t touch her. After a moment of silence he said, “You bruise so beautifully for me,” and left it at that. Hermione turned to sit again, and once again, Draco spoke before she could. “No. Sit over there.” He pointed with his wand to the empty side of the couch where there'd be no chair arm to obstruct his view. 

A whispered spell shot from his wand right before Hermione lowered her body onto the demanded spot, and it only took Hermione’s ass meeting the couch to realize what he had cast. She hissed at the contact. Instead of the comfortably soft but still supportive cushion she’d been expecting, she was met with a hard and rigid surface that didn’t give. 

Every inch of her skin touching the spelled cushion ached at the pressure. Every little bit she shifted just highlighted the pain somewhere else. As Hermione struggled to find a position that allowed her to sit moderately comfortably, Draco’s eyes remained on her. 

She ended up with her legs tucked up under her, her body leaning into the arm of the couch. She propped her latest book up in her hand, choosing to ignore Draco’s gaze. It was only when she turned the page that she realized that for every second he looked her way, he was seeing every inch of skin she was being forced to put on display. How had she forgotten?

Cheeks heating, Hermione glanced sideways at him. Her embarrassment seemed to be what he had been waiting for, because he chose that moment to finally return to his own book.

They sat in companionable silence, only the occasional turn of a page interrupting it. When Hermione found herself growing cold, Draco cast a warming spell for her without looking away from his page. When he retrieved a drink from the kitchen for himself, he returned with a cup of water for her. It was exactly what she would have wanted if he’d asked. Both times, she thanked him quietly, afraid to break the truce they seemed to have stumbled into. 

Hours passed that way. Hermione would have even said it had been a nice afternoon if it weren’t for the fact that every move she made reminded her of her bruised backside.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Draco put his book down once again, but instead of standing to perform whatever small task, he leaned back, undoing his belt, button, and pants zipper. Hermione watched quietly while he pulled his hard cock free and gripped himself.

Then his head turned to her and Hermione stilled.

It was no longer fear gripping her, as she’d finally come to realize that Draco wasn’t going to attack her. This was something new. She felt like it boarded on excitement, but that couldn’t be quite right.

Draco cast a finite at her cushion, allowing her to finally sink slightly into the comfortable seat.  Before she could adjust to snuggle into the couch, Draco commanded her, “Turn your body towards me, back against the arm. No, keep the book.” She stopped mid-motion where she’d been leaning towards the coffee table to deposit her reading, and instead positioned as she’d been bade. 

“Left foot down on the ground, right foot flat on the couch, knee bent. Bring it in towards your body more. Lean it against the back of the couch–good. Scoot down more.” Hermione followed his commands, face burning as his directions opened her legs up for him to see all of her. His praise sprinkled in among the instructions started a fluttering in her stomach. He took in her position for a minute and Hermione had to turn her head away.

The sound of skin gliding over skin had her turning back. Draco was stroking himself while looking at her. It baffled Hermione that her body was causing this reaction in him.

“Go back to reading, Hermione.” He was meeting her eyes now, the motion of his fist never wavering. “Use your right hand–don’t want your left to cover your chest. You can prop it on your leg.”

Hesitantly, Hermione obeyed. Her hands shook a bit as she opened the book to her page, but soon she had it leaning against her leg, her right hand holding it open. She tried to read, and found herself going over the same line repeatedly. Her eyes kept drifting beyond the page, watching Draco pleasure himself to the sight of her. He studied her breasts, of course, and her exposed pussy, but Hermione was fascinated to watch his eyes trail other places. Down her thighs, over her stomach, around her hair. It took everything in her to not lift her free hand to attempt to tamp the frizz down, and even more to not close her legs as her arousal increased with each passing minute he stared.

She considered, again, asking him to touch her. The thought of his hands bringing her pleasure was a heady one. His fingers trailing through her arousal up to circle her clit…or maybe dipping slowly into her. Her free hand brushed over her stomach unexpectedly. Hermione couldn't remember moving it, but surely she hadn't been reaching for her sex! It dropped back to the couch.

Draco's eyelids fluttered and Hermione knew he was close to finishing. He shifted suddenly, sliding into the middle of the couch and then leaning over her between her thighs. Draco met her eyes as he came, his cock now angled to spill his cum across her stomach and her pubic hair. Her eyes widened when it first hit, mouth opening in surprise. His head dropped onto her raised knee, bumping the book she still held there, forgotten. 

He remained there for a minute, Hermione taking the time to study him. She wanted to swipe away the long locks blocking his face as he pulled himself together. The strands of cum made stripes across her stomach and she followed them to where Draco’s hand was still gripping his softening cock. Hermione had a vague sense of disappointment that she hadn’t played a more active role in bringing him to this state. 

Draco finally released himself as he sat up. His hooded gaze landed on her stomach, admiring the same lines she had been before his eyes trailed up to meet hers. “You look good covered in my cum.” He lifted his clean hand to brush a knuckle across her cheek. “I'd like to paint your face like this someday soon.”

He stood then, trailing his eye over her body a final time before disappearing into the bathroom. Hermione finally sat normally, using her wand to clean up the mess he’d left behind, and tracing her fingertips across the cleared skin and down into her trimmed curls. She drifted further, finding the slickness she knew would be there.

The bathroom door opened and Hermione jerked her hand away, casting another spell to clean her own mess up, too 

Chapter Text

Draco woke, confused to have been pulled from his dream. His eyes opened only marginally, seeking the source of the disruption. It was still dark in the room, morning sun not yet peeking in from behind the curtains. Then he felt the tingle along his finger, down his hand, across his wrist and up his arm. It coursed through him, settling deep into his groin and eliciting a drop of precum from his very hard cock. Based on how damp his boxers were, it clearly wasn’t the first to escape.

A sharp, quiet intake of breath beside him drew his attention from his own state to the woman beside him. Hermione was very obviously not sleeping like she should have been, her eyes pinched tightly closed. Her mouth hung open, chin quivering, as she moved. It was too dark to see details, but through the blanket Draco had spelled transparent to force her to remain bare for him, he could see the frantic movements that could only be one thing.

Hermione was pleasuring herself. And by the stuttering in her breath and the increasing tempo of tingles from his ring, he thought it pretty safe to assume she was about to tip over the edge.

Draco wanted to push himself up onto an arm to give him a better view of her movements, but didn’t want to draw attention to himself. She would stop if she knew he was watching. Or would she? Maybe she would finally ask him to give her that release. More than once, now, he’d seen her physical reaction to him. He didn’t know if it was just the spanking or if it was him turning her on yet, but there was still plenty of time to figure that out. When actual morning came there would be yet another opportunity, as she would be breaking a rule the second she reached her goal here.

A fleeting thought told him he should stop her—make his awareness known to prevent her breaking a rule and earning another punishment. Her ass was likely still bruised from his belt, and plenty sore either way. But Draco immediately discarded that thought for two reasons. The first, selfishly, was that he desperately wanted to watch her fall apart, even in a dark room where he wouldn’t get to see every detail; even if he wasn’t the one to bring her that pleasure. 

The second, possibly more sadistic than selfish, was that he loved spanking her. He loved getting to rub his hand over the smooth, unblemished skin and having the perfectly round globes of her ass at his mercy. Having complete control over where each blow landed and how hard it hit. Watching the bounce with every smack. Hearing her pants that boarded so close to moans that he knew she’d been attempting to hold back just how much she loved having his hand on her ass. Loved the domination and being put in her place. And when he really, truly, punished her, a sick part of himself felt glory in her pleasure turning to cries. In teaching her where the divide was between his playfully punishing a brat and his strict discipline when she toed too far over the line. 

Fuck, his cock throbbed at the thought. Slowly, as to not alert Hermione, Draco reached into his underwear and squeezed, eyes fluttering closed at this small relief. He forced them back open immediately, not wanting to miss a second of the sight beside him.

She was struggling to stay as quiet as her pulse quickened, but Draco was impressed. Clearly she was someone who would make noise, and she was still managing to be quiet enough that he probably wouldn’t have woken from the sound alone. It was only the heavy ring on his finger that had tipped him off. The ring that squeezed when she lied and burned when she touched others. And when she felt pleasure, it shot tingles through him. He’d felt it when spanking her before. The sensation was like fingernails scraping lightly over his arm, making him shiver. 

But this was the first time it had been so strong. His whole body was set alight by the tingling, giving him a taste of how she felt when her clit was finally shown the attention he knew she had been desperate for the night before. How would it feel when he finally got his hands on that part of her? When she finally allowed him to lick up her slit and nibble at that tiny bud.

Would she stay quiet then?

Hermione broke, her chest arching up as her mouth gaped wider on a silent screech, her hand still clearly moving where he regretted not having a view of. Draco had to force his body not to spasm as the feeling crested in himself. With her pleasure already bringing him to the edge, two strokes was all it took to tip him over into joining her. 

He bit his lip, preventing any grunts or other sound from giving him away as his underwear grew sticky and uncomfortable with his cum. When he felt her pleasure melting away, Draco slammed his eyes shut and held completely still. The shifting on the mattress was his only hint that Hermione had slid out of bed. A glance showed him she’d retreated to the bathroom to clean up. He took the chance to grab his wand from his bedside table and clean up his own mess. It wasn’t as good as fresh clothes, but it would do under the circumstances.

When Hermione returned, she laid on her side facing away from him. It didn’t take long at all for her to fall back to sleep, and Draco, currently warm and sated, decided her punishment could wait until morning. The picture of her imminently bruised and battered ass made him smile. She had thought his belt was bad. Tomorrow’s punishment would be worse. Hermione would learn to follow his rules. Her pleasure belonged to him alone.

—

Surprisingly, Draco woke up first. It was earlier than they needed to be up, but that was for the best. He needed time to punish her and for her to pull herself together afterwards. He wasted no time in throwing his blanket off and standing to stretch. He shucked his little clothing off before making his way around the bed. Hermione was still sleeping on her side, facing away from him. A spell lowered the bed just slightly, better lining her mouth up with his eager cock. If he didn’t know better, Draco never would’ve guessed he’d gotten off just hours previous. 

Gently, Draco tucked some hair behind Hermione’s ear. “Wake up, sweetheart.” He shifted more of her hair, wanting the path clear for her mouth to take him. He was surprised by how soft it felt. Judging on frizz alone he’d always assumed her hair would be more coarse. Her head nuzzled slightly into his hand as she drifted between states. His dick rubbing precum across her lips made her freeze, eyes finally opening as her mind started working to pull dream from reality. She tried to tilt her head back to put some distance between them, but Draco had changed his soft caresses for a solid grasp on her head, his fingers threaded through her soft locks, preventing her retreat. 

“Open,” he demanded, cock still pressing against the soft lips that he’d been dying to taste with his own. Would she like it when they finally kissed? Would she be hungry for more when he pulled away? Would she be needy, seeking reassuring pecks throughout the day?

Her lips opened just enough for her tongue to dart out, licking his waiting tip. Draco’s breath hitched and he pressed forward, pleased when she opened further for him to slide in. “Good girl, Hermione.” The smallest tingle from the ring told him, as it had before, that she enjoyed the praise. 

Half sheathed in her mouth, Draco stopped, letting her tongue work to coat what it could. “No hands; they’ll be in the way,” Draco declared, stopping her hand from venturing further toward him where it had been snaking its way free of the blanket. “This morning, I’ll use you as I like.” His grip on her hair tightened in emphasis, slowly pushing her a further inch onto his cock and then pulling her back. “I’ll be gentle. Well…” his head waffled side to side, “gentle- ish. You’re not ready to take me down your throat yet.”

He pulled her head forward again, just to the point where she was starting to gag, her mouth opening in protest and her body unconsciously trying to pull away again. He brought her to rest safely with his leaking tip still in her mouth. “Breathe through your nose, Hermione. I promise you’ll be fine.” Their eye contact held as Draco waited, still. Finally, Hermione blinked long and slow before opening her eyes to meet his once again. Draco took that as assent and began.

—

Stepping from the shower, Draco toweled off while taking in the sight in front of the counter. Day-to-day Hermione was a girl next door. Smart, kind, friendly to anyone who gave her the time of day. Naked Hermione was a damned goddess. Her ass was surprisingly tight for someone who didn’t partake in much physical activity. Her breasts were perky, areolas dark for her fair skin, really drawing the eye. As if Draco really needed anything to draw his gaze to her chest. Her nipples were probably as wide as the tip of his pinky–something he really wanted to test for himself–and were always poking out, just begging to be touched. Even now, he could see them in the mirror, pointing straight at him for no reason whatsoever. One day he’d be able to take advantage of this scene, turn her around unsuspectingly and take those nubs in his mouth. He hoped she liked a little pain there as she did on her ass. Draco desperately wanted to be rough with them. 

He’d been watching her his entire shower, pleased that she hadn’t shied away from being naked in this smaller space at the same time as him. That punishment seemed to have worked wonders. Her nudity no longer had her worried or pulling away. Draco smiled internally, proud to see proof that she could be taught after all. 

Towel secured around his waist, Draco approached his wife. She was methodically working through her hair with some product in an attempt to tame the frizz. Considering her hair was nowhere near as bushy as it had been years earlier, he was sure she would be successful. He stepped up beside her, noting when she didn’t startle or even glance his way. Draco grabbed her hairbrush from the counter, twisting it between his hands to get a feel for the implement. It was oval, wooden. The handle fit nicely in his palm. He turned to lean back against the counter, just his head facing her.

Finally, her eyes flicked to him, before turning back to her task. “Sleep well?” he inquired, curious if this conversation would lead to a lie and a further punishment than he had planned. For her sake he hoped not.

“I slept very well, thank you.”

It wasn't a lie. Despite her midnight activities, there wasn't even a hint of pressure from the ring. Her early morning wake up must have done good things for her, then, which was interesting to note. 

“Oh good, I'm glad.” And he was. Hermione cared deeply about her studies. She needed enough rest to keep her work up to her standards. If she was failing to get enough sleep, Draco would need to look into new rules or different punishments to help her achieve that goal. “I wasn't sure how long you were awake last night.”

Hermione's hands stopped in place as her face slackened. It wasn't a frown or expression of fear like he might expect from her at being caught, but a release of tension. Her shoulders dropped, her lips no longer forced into a neutral position. And that was interesting. Draco hadn't even noticed how tense she'd been before, but it seemed obvious now. Hermione was relieved to have this secret out in the open.

Well. She wouldn't be soon. It was nice to know though, that she didn't want to keep secrets from him. Draco could work with that.

“When did you wake up?” she asked, her hands falling to the counter, hair forgotten.

Draco wasn’t sure if she was asking because she thought she could get away with the broken rule, or just for curiosity’s sake, but he was inclined to assume the latter. “Not too long before you came.” Hermione blushed, dropping her head in embarrassment. She’d come a long way with her nudity, but it seemed they still had a ways to go with everything else. He’d have to find an excuse to punish her with constant pleasure. The exposure seemed to have been effective with her skin. Why not her orgasms? “I was tempted to cast a lumos so I could see you better, but it seemed rude to interrupt.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione murmured, still not facing him. 

That just wouldn’t do. Draco crooked a finger under her chin to turn her head to face him. “Eyes on me when we’re talking, Hermione.” The briefest spark from his ring told him how much she enjoyed hearing her name on his tongue. “Tell me why you broke rule five.”

It was a demand, but as always, Draco didn’t set her a time limit to comply. She would never grow more comfortable with him if he chewed her head off for every little thing. He knew how to be patient.

“I…had a dream.” She lifted her hand to rub her arm. The motion framed her breasts, drawing his eye to dart between the two peaks momentarily. “And when I woke up I just really needed to…to finish the dream.”

Draco’s eyes held hers again. “Tell me about the dream.” Was he the star of it? Or had she simply been getting herself off? Had she imagined she’d asked him to take care of her the night before, as he had dreamed of?

Her eyes darted away again. “I–”

“Eyes here, ” Draco reminded, adding his thumb to her chin as a physical tether between them.

Hermione obeyed, flushing deeper as she met his eyes once more. Draco watched the red tint her chest, the tops of those perky mounds. He couldn’t help but imagine the color darkening as he spanked her there too. Would she like that? Having the sharp sting on this part of her instead of the thick ass he’d focused on thus far?

“I dreamed…” Hermione started slowly, clearly searching for the least incriminating way to explain the truth. “I was…I don’t…”Hermione trailed off, mouth open as if the next word was just stuck, unable to come out.

Draco turned fully toward her, sliding his palm up along her neck and rubbing his thumb soothingly over her cheek. “Whatever you say, you’re safe with me. I will never laugh at or tease you. I won’t judge you for what you enjoyed in your dream or what you end up enjoying in reality. No one else will ever know what you tell me in confidence.” 

His thumb continued its back and forth as she swallowed and took a breath. “I was in class,” Hermione started slowly. “The professor had just handed back a test and I aced it. Everyone else failed. And…” Hermine bit her lip, eyes darting away and then back to his when she remembered his order. “He was rewarding me for doing so well.” Draco probably could have guessed the theme of the dream if he’d really tried. It made sense for this to be how Hermione dreamed of receiving pleasure.

“How was he rewarding you?”

“He, um.” Hermione swallowed again. “He had me sit on his desk and he…he got on his knees…”

Draco decided to speak the words for her, both as a reward for getting this far, and because he was eager to get to a more essential question. “Did he use his mouth on you, Hermione? Tease at your clit and lap up your sweet juices?”

Quietly, she answered, “Yes.” 

“Good girl.” The praise was for her vocalizing her answer when he knew she would’ve preferred to nod. He felt a stuttered breath against his wrist as the ring tingled once again. “And this professor that was rewarding you so thoroughly,” Draco asked, finally getting to what he wanted to know most, “who were they?”

Hermione’s eyes widened and her lip trembled slightly as she opened her mouth and didn’t answer. She bit her bottom lip, looking away from him again. Draco’s thumb never stopped its soothing motion, reminding her that everything was fine.

“No judgment, Hermione. I won’t even comment on the answer, alright?”

Her eyes flicked back to his, searching for the truth in his statement. “It wasn’t a real professor…” She took a breath, eyes darting between his as they were supposed to and looking as far away as she could manage without moving her head out of his grasp. Then, barely above a whisper, Hermione admitted, “It was you.”

Draco had hoped that would be the answer and his dick twitched beneath his towel at the revelation. She already starred in his fantasies; it was rewarding to know he starred in hers as well. But now he had to move on, as he’d promised. This would be a line of thought to revisit later.

“Thank you for telling me.” Draco finally dropped his hand, wondering if she lamented the loss of contact as much as he did. “And now there’s the matter of discipling you.” Hermione nodded, resigned. She knew this was coming the second he broached the topic. He was proud that she wasn’t afraid this time, though, she probably should be.

Draco traded the brush in his hand for the wand he’d placed on the counter before his shower and walked behind Hermione. With just a finger on each hip–anymore would’ve turned into a caress and probably would have made him drop his wand to get a better grasp on her–he tugged her gently back a step from the counter.

“Lift your foot.” He tapped her right hip to indicate which one. Bewildered, she did so, watching him in the mirror all the while. Draco shot a spell at the floor and then guided her foot down onto it. “Can you lift it again?”

Hermione tugged, but her foot was stuck firmly in place, exactly as Draco was hoping it would be. “No,” she answered, turning her head to face him then. “What are you doing?”

“Now this side,” he directed, tapping her other hip. “I’m sticking you in place so that when I spank you, you can’t move away and get yourself into more trouble.” He guided her left foot into place, her legs now much further apart than they had been, and she could do nothing about it.

“Is this really necessary?”

Draco pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her body to bend forward. “Entirely necessary.” Draco shot the spell on the counter and took hold of her wrist. “I’m not playing this morning. Your pleasure is mine, Hermione. I will make sure you understand this isn’t a rule to be broken. This spanking is going to hurt far worse than any of the previous and you will try to dance away or block me. So, unless you want to have the chance to get in further trouble…?”

“No.” Hermione’s voice was soft as the realization set in. Draco placed her hand down, ignoring the spark of desire she felt at the prospect of being spanked while completely helpless before him. She likely wouldn’t feel that way for long.

When her second hand was secured, Draco abandoned his wand again and took a step back to admire his handiwork. He loved her like this. With her legs forced so wide he could see every inch of her. Her perfect ass which he’d already had several chances to admire, had less bruises than he’d expected. That was good; it meant she could handle more this morning. 

The little pucker that she was so afraid of him breaching that she’d tried to hard limit it. Working her open there until she could stretch around him would be an absolute pleasure. Draco had no doubt they’d get there eventually. 

And those absolutely picturesque pussy lips were calling to him. The smallest gleam was already showing from the little bit of excitement she’d derived from his words. Draco wanted to drop to his knees like in her dream and finally taste her. The tenting towel around his waist reminded him how much he wanted to do more than taste.  

But this was a punishment, not a reward. Hopefully one day soon, he’d get to fulfill her fantasy.

Draco ran a hand around across her ass, savoring the smooth glide of her skin, as always. He would never tire of touching her like this. Then snatched her brush back from the counter and pressed the flat of it against her flesh, rubbing it around in much the same manner. “I’ll be spanking you with your own hairbrush, this morning. He held it up so she could see it in the mirror, and then, with her watching, brought it down hard on her left ass cheek.

Hermione’s body thrashed as she let out a surprised yelp. Luckily, she couldn’t move from her position. Draco brought it down on the right side, and again, Hermione attempted to bend away from the contact. “As you can see,” another swat, “there’s a lot less give than the belt had.” He swatted her again. “It makes for a much harder impact.” 

He admired the red blooming from his whacks for just a moment. Then, Draco placed a hand on the small of her back, keeping her wiggle at bay. This allowed him to spank her five times fast on the same cheek, before repeating on the other. Those completed, he aimed several on her sit spots. Those were what started the begging.

“Draco, please!” and “I’m sorry!” and “I won’t do it again!” rotated between blows. The second time through, her voice sounded wet. And the third, Draco caught sight of tears in the mirror.

“You won’t do it again?” he asked, then. Tears were good for two reasons. First, the gleam from them had a magnifying effect on her eyes, making their warm caramel brown turn bigger and brighter. But more relevantly, they were proof that the lesson was settling in. He had to be careful though. If he went too hard too fast, he’d have to stop before he really wanted to. And more importantly, before she really deserved. She could have this short reprieve to compose herself. 

“No! I promise!”

He spanked her again. “Be specific. What exactly are you promising?”

He held the brush limp at his side to allow her to answer, using his free hand to rub across her heated flesh. The middle of each cheek was noticeably darker where bruises were forming. He’d really need to even that out some. Draco wanted to see a lot more of that darker color before he was through.

Hermione was breathing hard and sniffling. “I promise I won’t masturbate without your permission!”

“Good.” Draco switched the brush in his hand so he was holding it by the bristled end. He slid the handle up her inner thigh to touch her clit. She had grown wetter in the beginning and he used that lubricant now to slide the handle back and forth on her sensitive nub a few times. “This right here,” he increased the pressure to indicate his meaning, “belongs to me.” He rubbed over it more, stopping when Hermione’s breathing changed from pained to excited.

“And I’ll be the one to decide when it feels pleasure-” Draco replaced the handle in his palm, “and when it feels pain.” He swung the brush lightly between her legs to slap against her exposed and aroused clit. 

“Ahh!” Hermione screamed, having not expected that at all. Draco did it again, and Hermione resumed her begging from before. But this time, Draco felt a tingle in his ring. He smirked at that, pleased.

But he couldn’t let her enjoy her punishment this time. Twice more Draco smacked her clit, this time with increased force, not allowing her any pleasure. Her eyes began to water again, but her break was over.

Draco returned his focus to evening out the color across her ass. He continued to hold her back in place to give him further control as he concentrated on previously ignored spots. He smacked her upper thighs several more times for good measure too.

Eventually, Hermione went limp on the counter, the fight having completely drained out of her as she accepted her punishment. That she deserved it and that she wouldn’t be able to escape it. Hermione knew, now, that Draco would be the sole factor in how long or hard this punishment continued. He hadn’t even told her if spanking would be her only punishment. Whether she had been disciplined enough would depend on Draco’s mercy. He smiled. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed.

“You’ve done so well, Hermione. I’m proud of how you’ve taken your punishment. Just a few more swats and we’ll be finished.”

Draco spanked her clit and each cheek twice more before finally setting her brush down next to her. He hoped everytime she picked it up she would be reminded of the consequences of her actions.

He stepped back as he had in the beginning, to admire the sight before him. Gone was the perfect pale flesh. Now, every bit of her ass was mottled by bruises and deep red splotches. She was absolutely gorgeous like this, and Draco lamented not having a camera to preserve the view. Luckily, he was sure he’d have several more opportunities to see her like this in the coming month. Maybe if she finally pulled herself together and started acting as the rules demanded, he’d implement maintenance spankings just to give him the excuse to put her in this helpless state more often.

Yes. Draco thought that was an excellent idea.

Grabbing the cream he’d used on her before, Draco began tending to Hermione’s heated flesh. She jolted at his first touch, a whimper escaping where her sobs had quieted. Tears still flowed freely though.

“Shh, sweetheart. Let me finish treating this and I’ll free you. Your punishment is over and all is forgiven, alright?”

Hermione nodded the barest amount, and Draco sighed, setting the container down and walking around her side to where she was facing.

“Hermione, are you currently able to speak?”

Her eyes widened, realizing her mistake. “Yes.” Her voice came out hoarse after her cries. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Please don’t spank me again, Draco. Please. Anything else. Punish me another way.”

Draco could spank her further. Plenty of flesh across her body remained completely untouched. Hadn’t he been thinking just earlier how he wanted to rough up her breasts? Plus there was the fact that her punishments were up to him, and only him. If he withheld spanking now would she feel like she’d won something? That she’d had a hand in her fate? Would she start attempting to dictate future punishments as well?

That just wouldn’t do. “Hmm,” was his only response as he continued his ministrations across her sore ass. But as he worked, the slightest of tingles emanated from his ring, and excitement shot through Draco at a simple realization. He spanked her pussy! Which, of course, meant it was now his responsibility to care for that area as well.

All thoughts of punishing her left his head as his hands traveled lower, soothing her inner thighs. His ring tingled more, the feeling shooting straight to his groin where his cock had been hard for most of her discipline. 

Scooping some more cream from the jar, Draco finally pressed his fingers to the area he’d been most desperate to touch. Hermione sucked in a breath at the contact, but didn’t protest his touch—not that he’d have stopped if she did. He was helping her after all.

All around, Draco rubbed the cream in. He wanted to melt at the soft feel of her pussy lips as he rubbed between and outside of them, ensuring no spot was neglected. Then he returned to her clit, rubbing small circles into it as her breathing continued to stutter. Using his thumb and forefinger, Draco then gently pinched the nub under the guise that this would further work the cream into her abused flesh. She whimpered again, but not in pain this time. Now, her whimper was a breathy exclamation of need. 

Fuck, Draco couldn’t handle that sound. Not when he’d caused it. Not with her in this position and him basically naked. His cock strained against the towel, desperate to break free and claim her needy pussy. It would be so easy to push into her like this. She’d have no way to stop him. He was desperate to show her how good she could feel if she’d only let him be the one to get her off. 

Seriously, Draco considered it. It wasn’t the first time the idea had crossed his mind. The act was within his rights as her husband and fell within the expectations of the project. It wouldn’t even be considered rape under wizarding law. If Draco wanted to use any of her holes, he could. Merlin, it would be so easy.

But Hermione hadn’t asked him to touch her yet.

Draco returned the lid to the jar of cream and set it aside. A wave from his wand had Hermione unstuck from her position. He didn’t wait for her to rise before abandoning the towel and vacating the bathroom.

He was still naked when Hermione joined him for breakfast a few minutes later. With one hand he speared pieces of fruit with a fork to eat, and the other stroked his cock in full view. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

When she stood at the table with a bowl of oatmeal, Draco finally spoke up. “Give me that.” He set his fork down, gesturing at her oatmeal. Frowning, she did as she was instructed. “Now sit.” It was obvious she had planned on remaining upright for the meal to spare her ass. Draco wasn’t having it.

Slowly, Hermione began lowering herself into the wooden chair. Her palms rested on the table where she leveraged herself down, grimacing as her thighs came in contact with the seat first. Draco squeezed himself harder. When her entire ass was in place, her lower lip trembled from the pain, and Draco stroked himself faster.

“Now let go of the table.” She had part of her weight on her arms, sparing her bruised backside. But Draco wasn’t allowing it. Hermione pulled her hands up, settling further back in the chair with a hiss.

Her pain–that he had caused–was beautiful, but more than that, Draco thought he could get absolutely high on her obedience. “Good girl,” he grunted, as he came right into her bowl of oatmeal.

When his load was spent and the aftershocks passed, Draco released himself. He stirred his ejaculate into the oatmeal and passed her the bowl. Her eyes were wide with disgust, as he expected. It didn’t make sense though, since she’d swallowed his cum several times already.

“For failing to verbally answer my question earlier, you will swallow every bite of that.”

She did.

When it was finally time to let her get dressed, Draco provided a simple black g-string for her. “Anything with more coverage will irritate your bruises.” Hermione seemed to understand the logic in that and accepted the garment from him. Draco didn’t mention that more coverage would provide an additional layer of protection when she sat in classes today, and he couldn’t have that. How could Draco be sure her punishment would stick with her if it was so easy to mitigate the effects of it? He would also be instructing her to not cast any cushioning charms or any manner of transfigurations upon her seats.

Failure to adhere to this temporary stipulation would result in an identical punishment on her backside this evening, over top of the still present and painful bruises. 

Chapter Text

Relief washed through Hermione as she entered the dwelling. The day had been long and torturous and she was glad to at least be done with the public part of it. 

Every new seat she took provided the same struggle with the pain in her backside, and somehow there was always someone new around to witness her squirming and bug her about it. Well, “bug” wasn’t really fair. They were her friends, and they were concerned for her. It was sweet. 

Or it would be if there was literally anything they could do for her or that she could even tell them. But since her pain was due to her marital assignment, all details were required to remain secret. She couldn’t tell a single person why she spent the entire day shifting around. She couldn’t explain that she didn’t want to have lunch in the Great Hall because then she’d be on a hard wooden bench with people pressed in on either side of her, leaving her no room to wiggle into new positions to relieve pressure where necessary.  

She’d returned “home” for lunch and laid on her stomach across the couch, her lunch on a plate below her on the floor. It was the best she’d felt all day. 

And of course Marital Duties had been absolutely awful. Though…it could’ve been worse. Professor Compton had mentioned that nearly every single female had been disciplined for one reason or another, and of those, all had been spanked at least once. Apparently three were spanked that very morning. 

And while all of that was absolutely awful…it did make Hermione feel better. She wasn’t the only one suffering. And when she’d looked around, she’d found others squirming the same way she had been. 

Hermione felt terrible for finding a bit of peace in the pain of others, but she was hurting too much to really consider the moral implications. 

When the door closed behind her, Hermione took a few steps away from the entrance, just in case, and dropped her bag. She began stripping off every scrap of clothing, hoping this would be the last time. Her nudity punishment would be done when she woke up the next day. She had survived having her skin constantly on display, and Draco had made good on his word to not take advantage of her just because she was in his sights.  

Oddly, Hermione felt like she could actually trust him. And to think, trusting your husband is supposed to be normal. A week ago Hermione would’ve said it would be impossible. But Draco had proved himself.  

Yes, he’d hurt her with multiple tools on several occasions. Yes, he’d made her step out of her comfort zone and challenged her. Yes, she was pretty sure he had a very cruel streak about him, to have wrought so much pain on her and be so completely turned on by it every time. 

But he’d been fair…in his own way.  

Draco had set the rules. Hermione had agreed to them. Was it that different than getting detention for breaking school regulations? 

With a wave of her wand, Hermione sent her clothes to the bedroom and her bag to the table. She didn’t like to leave messes around, and was pleased that Draco apparently didn’t like to either.  

In the kitchenette, Hermione poured a glass of juice for herself. The entrance opened again, admitting Draco, who seemed to deflate the second the door closed behind him. Tension fell off him as he exhaled a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

He dropped his hand and opened his eyes, eyes scanning the living space until they fell on her in the kitchen. Draco’s gaze remained on hers as he dropped his own bag off next to hers and loosened his tie as he came to stand beside her. He poured himself a matching glass and turned to lean back against the counter, one foot crossing over the other. 

“Everything alright?” Hermione asked, watching him.  

After taking a sip, his head lulled towards her, giving a quick visual sweep of her body before meeting her eyes. “It’s just been a long day. I see you remembered though,” he nodded to indicate her state of undress, “which helps.” The corner of his mouth tilted up before he took another sip to wipe it away. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hermione asked, ignoring his last comment. She was well aware by now that he was turned on by her, though she couldn’t be sure if that was from her body, his domination over her, or from the glee he derived from disciplining her. It was likely a mix of the three, but it didn’t really matter.  

Draco’s chin dropped to his chest, taking in an interesting spot on the floor for a moment before raising back up. “There’s nothing much to say. People were people. Professors were professors. I’m glad the day is done.” He turned his whole body then, leaning his side against the counter instead. “How was your day?” 

Somehow, the question didn’t even surprise Hermione. The whole conversation was so incredibly normal that she should’ve been questioning if one or both of them had been impiriused. But they were married. Talking about their days seemed like a really good place to begin a bit more civility. Maybe this would be the first step towards or more genial coexistence.  

“Well, if you ignore the burning ache that radiates from my ass with every step, and that only increases when pressure is applied–like, oh I don't know, a seat?–as well as disregard the constant stream of worried glances and probing questions from people who just can’t leave well enough alone, then my day was absolutely peachy!” 

Draco chuckled, and it wasn’t the evil villain chuckle that Hermione had once pictured. Draco’s laugh was light and breathy. It softened his entire face in a way she’d never seen. It was beautiful. 

And she had caused it. 

“Stupid question,” Draco acknowledged.  

His smile fell away slowly as he looked her over again, amusement being replaced by a more intense emotion. Hermione wanted to call it desire, but that felt more the path for someone who was actually interested. Maybe this was more like…need? 

Draco tapped his finger on the side of his glass a few times before setting it down. “I almost feel bad for interrupting this nice moment, but I’m calling in rule 4 a bit earlier today.”  

That was the rule that said he could use her body to get off however he wanted. The sharp spike of fear hit her that this could be the time he used her in that way, but it was quickly brushed away by her newfound trust. Draco said he wouldn’t and that’s all there was to it. 

This could actually be a good thing. If they got his orgasm out of the way, Hermione would have the entire rest of the evening to do whatever she wanted. 

She nodded her understanding and set her own drink down. She was just opening her mouth to ask how he wanted to use her when he took the remaining step between them and placed his hands on her hips. A light pressure told her to face the counter, leaving him behind her.  

Draco stepped back, and Hermione watched over her shoulder as he took in the sight of his handy work. He ran his hands over her backside, forcing air from her lungs at the sudden jolt of pain. It didn’t stop him. 

He released her to unfasten his trousers and free his cock, stroking it once for good measure. A silent spell raised Hermione up a couple of inches on a small step. She startled at the unexpected motion, and his hands landed on her waist again to balance her. 

When she was steady, his hands moved up her back, a sensation Hermione didn’t entirely mind. And then his body was closer, crowding her into the counter until she felt his length pressing against her. 

A hand snaked around her front, holding her securely across her abdomen. The other dropped to his cock, directing the tip to rub along her crack. He went up and down a few times before holding it under her and slowly thrusting forward.  

The continued upward pressure he applied had his length running right across her clit, and Hermione gasped in surprise at the contact. Draco pulled back and repeated the motion, confusing her to no end while her own arousal grew. Didn’t Draco say he wouldn’t touch her there? Did that mean this was the time he’d finally penetrate her? 

Before she could work herself up with that thought, Draco returned to stroking his cock along her crack. He pulled her cheeks apart just enough to thrust between them, a shudder racking through him at the feel. 

For a few minutes they stayed like that. Hermione bent over a hard counter, but pleased that it was slightly softened by Draco’s arm. Had he put it there for that reason? His movements would’ve been pushing her hips hard into the edge without this kindness. The realization that he was trying not to hurt her, melted Hermione just a bit. She relaxed into his hold, beginning to almost enjoy the feel of him between her cheeks. 

As if he’d noticed the change, Draco chose that moment to hold his dick under her again, hitting her clit with each motion that drove him through the gathering wetness from his attentions.  

The exhale when he first felt it was deep, like he was struggling not to make a different sound. A groan, perhaps? Because of her. Because he'd felt the slickness between her legs and enjoyed the feel of it. That his pleasure was heightened by the presence of her own, only further turned Hermione on, more evidence leaking from her. 

The discovery had him pumping with a new vigor. He alternated, thrusting between her cheeks for a while and then along her heat, gathering more of her juices every time. Eventually, Hermione couldn’t hold back her whimpers at the continued teasing. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. Each rub of his cock along her clit sent jolts of pleasure through her, only for crushing disappointment and frustration to hit each time he pulled away. It was agonizing. 

She didn't want this. Didn't want to enjoy when he touched her. Didn't want to need more attention on her clit the way that she currently did. Every graze against her there made her breath stutter or a whimper escape.  

And after a few thrusts between her legs, he would pull away, retreating to the squeeze of her butt cheeks around him. It took everything in Hermione not to sob at the loss of contact. Not to beg him to keep touching her there. Her muffled orgasm in the middle of the night left something to be desired and she needed to get off. 

Draco’s breathing picked up, warning her he was on the edge. Sure enough, his upper body pulled away from her and a second later a low grunt accompanied the wet streams of heat hitting her back.  

Each splatter sent a new shock through her. That he'd come so quickly. That he, once again, had not fucked her without permission. That he'd finished without first finishing her. 

But that last thought was ridiculous! Hermione had no reason to think he would finish her off first. And no desire for him too. None at all! 

Aftershocks coursed through Draco, making his hands clench and release her hips. When he finally settled, he pulled away from her with a quiet command for her to stay put.  

Hermione watched as he wet a cloth in the sink and cleaned himself off before approaching her to do the same. Gently, he stroked the towel across her back, removing all evidence of his completion.  

She tensed as he moved lower, using the cloth to wipe away the mess he'd spread between her cheeks. And then further still, to carefully wipe clean around her entrance. Then, finally, the cloth met her clit, gently– too gently–cleaning her neglected nub. Hermione bit her lip while she shook slightly against the counter. 

Draco pulled away from her, banishing the cloth with a spell before zipping his pants back up and grabbing his abandoned juice. 

“Alright?” He asked, when she hadn't moved from her position. 

Hermione half hoped he'd go take a shower or something, allowing her to get herself off quickly. Her abused ass throbbed at the thought, and she tossed that idea far away. 

She stood, keeping her thighs squeezed together as if it was actually helping to ease the ache between her legs. “I'm–” Hermione froze, having been about to say ‘fine.’ But that would've been a lie. “–just hurting,” she finished, with a glance towards her backside. It was certainly not all she was feeling, but it was a truth she could admit to. 

Draco followed her gaze, taking in the bruising that he'd been rubbing against and squeezing just moments before. He hummed softly in acknowledgement before setting his drink down once again. “Back over the counter,” he commanded, summoning the same cream he'd rubbed on her before. 

Hermione didn't know if she should be more excited that he'd be touching her more, or frustrated that he wouldn't be getting her off while doing so. But, she obediently bent back over the counter, no longer embarrassed to have her ass in the air this way. It was odd to think she ever had.

Much as he had that morning, Draco rubbed the cream all around her ass and upper thighs. His movements were gentle against the pained area, and Hermione practically melted at his ministrations. 

Without warning, his fingers were on her clit again, making Hermione yelp and straighten up in surprise. “What are you doing?” She told herself her heart was beating so fast because of his unexpected action, not because of the heat coiling low in her abdomen.

Draco lifted an eyebrow, smirking. “I must not have spanked your pretty pussy enough since you don't remember that it needs care too. Would you like a reminder of how it felt?”

“No!” Hermione’s answer was out before he'd finished speaking. “That's alright; I remember. Il just…” she motioned towards the counter, indicating her compliance. She bent back over the surface, mollified that at least not she could expect his touch.

But knowing it was coming didn't help at all.

When Draco rubbed along each of her lips, Hermione's breathing stuttered. She swallowed to keep her mouth busy and hopefully prevent anything too audible escaping.

When he grazed across her clit she bit her lip and begged whatever higher power was listening for this to end quickly and for Draco not to notice the renewed slick seeping out of her.

And when he started rubbing circles around that area, Hermione couldn't help her moan. The coiling heat continued to build and she was sure she was going to combust. 

Finally, Draco pulled away, and Hermione whimpered at the loss. He'd been teasing her since the moment he walked in and Hermione was desperate to come. Surely he'd allow her to finish herself off after working her up so much?

Draco finished off his drink, leaving the cup in the sink for a house elf to take care of later. Without a word to her, he strode into the living room, grabbed a book from the coffee table, and sat back on the couch.

Standing up, Hermione carefully stepped down from the step Draco had created to raise her up. She slowly made her way to the dining table to start on homework, but found concentrating on the work an impossible task. Aching with need, getting off was all Hermione could think about. She found herself shifting in her seat as she'd been doing all day, but this time it was looking to apply pressure to her clit rather than to relieve pressure on her ass.

Draco’s, “Come here,” interrupted the tapping she hadn't realized she was doing with the tip of her quill. A large ink splotch had spread across her parchment as a result.

Obeying–because what else was she going to do–Hermione stood and walked around the couch to face him. Draco set his book down and spread his legs wide. He patted the cushion he'd just freed space on, indicating his demand for having her between his legs.

Hermione was walking towards him before much thought had gone into the action. Her behind couldn't take another beating yet, and she had to be a perfect wife in the meantime to protect herself. Not to mention she would take anything as a distraction from her own need right now.

When she stood directly in front of him, he commanded her to sit. Hermione turned her back to him, all too aware of the bruises now directly in his face in a way they hadn't been when she'd been over the counter. Did he enjoy seeing her like this? Was that why he really punished her this way?

Before she could let the thoughts delay her, Hermione gingerly perched on the edge of the cushion between Draco’s legs. He wasted no time in grabbing her by the hips and tugging her to fit more snugly against him. His hands on her bare flesh sent tingles through Hermione, and she couldn’t tell if it was a semblance of fear from all the times his touch had caused her pain, or more from the thrill of him touching her somewhere else . 

Though perhaps she shouldn't get her hopes too far in that direction, considering how many times he'd left her hanging this evening.

So often he seemed to have reason to touch, rub, and fondle her backside and now even along her sex. But other than that, Draco had made a point of not touching her.

No accidental finger touches when passing food. No innocent nighttime snuggles when they were too asleep to do anything about it. He hadn’t so much as lent a hand to pull her off the couch.

It made this touch practically electric. Draco’s hands remained in place after settling her where he wanted. His thumbs rubbed small circles where they rested on her waist, each rotation seeming to send the shocks lower. His fingers weren’t gentle where they gripped a little too low into the crease of her groin. Hermione wished a thumb would unhook from behind her, so he might reach further across her abdomen. 

As if he’d heard the thought, Draco loosed a hand, trailing fingers low on her stomach until they reached her navel. His palm lay flat against her, fingers spread so his pinky and ring finger layed among her groomed curls.

She swallowed thickly, unsure what to do, or if she wanted to do anything. Hermione wasn’t sure if his movement had stopped because he felt her twitch at the lower contact or if he’d planned on reaching that destination all along. Slowly, she forced herself to unclench the muscles she hadn’t realized she tensed.

It seemed to be what he was waiting for. Draco’s palm dragged upward along her skin, causing a strangled sound of regret deep in Hermione’s throat. Draco didn’t react to the sound, which she was grateful for. 

The warmth of his caress–because Hermione decided that had to be what this was–travelled up between her breasts, brushing against the sides of them. His fingers splayed wide on her upper chest, applying pressure to force her to lean more fully against him. Hermione complied, allowing her weight to settle on him as he wanted.

“Relax, Hermione,” he whispered in her ear, shocking a huff of air from her lips. 

His hand travelled further then, his arm squeezing into her breast with the motion, doing nothing to help her relax. Hermione was having trouble feeling too much to be able to think well enough to command her body. Fingers circled her neck, directing her head to lean to the side to fit better against him.

They dropped back to her chest then, laying flat and rising with the breath she took at the pressure being removed from her breast. Then down, down, down his fingers went, until he was brushing against the top of her pubic hair once again. Hermione couldn’t help the breath catching in her throat, anticipating the further southward motion. But it didn’t come.

Despite the heat she was feeling, Hermione reminded herself that that was a good thing. Wasn’t it?

Draco retraced his steps across her abdomen, but instead of hooking his thumb back behind her again, his other hand freed itself from where it had never stopped circling. Together, Draco’s hands ran down the tops of her thighs, thumbs trailing the insides, making her breath stutter. Switching gears, he circled them to the outside of her legs, spreading his own wider to accommodate. Without a word of warning, he grabbed her under each knee and lifted. His own legs slid closer together as he draped hers over his own, causing her body to slip down the cushion, so her lower back now rested between his legs, her ass nearly hanging off in the air.

The new position left her completely exposed. Her pussy lips were parted in invitation and Hermione was sure from his higher vantage point he could see the moisture gathered there due to his ministrations. Her cheeks flamed as her heart rate increased. 

“Does that feel better?” he asked, and Hermione had no idea how to answer when she didn’t understand the question. But it had been a question and she was required to answer him or face the consequences. And she just didn’t think she could do that right now. 

“Here, I mean.” During her panic his hands had found their way back to her inner thighs and then wrapped under her. He dropped one now to press into some of the bruising on her exposed flesh, making her wince.

Had Draco forced her into this position to take the pressure off her ass? That was…unexpectedly considerate of him. Or maybe it should be expected? Considering the cream he rubbed in to help.

No, what was she thinking? He could have allowed her to lay on her stomach or used charms to soften seat surfaces, or given her tonics for the pain! This position wasn’t a kindness.

“Yes,” she finally answered, refusing to thank him when he had several better options at his disposal.

He abandoned her bruises then, trailing his hands ever so slowly back up her thighs, lingering in a way his fingers hadn’t when they’d traveled the opposite direction. 

“Good,” Draco breathed, hands never faulting in their trek. “You were such a good girl today,” Hermione couldn’t help her shiver at the praise, “following every rule I’ve given you.” Finally, he diverted from her inner thighs to pass her hip bones. “And letting me use you so well. I thought you deserved this small reprieve from your earlier punishment.”

One hand returned to its previous home on her abdomen, fingers now circling lightly through her pubes, each motion only serving to work her up further. The other came to rest just below her breasts, occasionally brushing against the undersides, almost as if by accident. Hermione was finding it hard to breathe, both from his actions, and because her mind convinced her she could control the grazes by stopping her chest from moving. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t help at all.

“Let me reward you further, Hermione,” Draco murmured, fingers dipping lower into her pubes and tugging. “Let me make you feel good.” His fingers grazed all the way along the bottom crease of a breast and cupped her along the base, squeezing ever so gently and pulling an unexpected moan from Hermione. Before Hermione could react to her own reaction, Draco was speaking again. “Ask me to touch you.” He released her coarse hairs to drop further, fingers running along the outside of her lips in his cruelest tease yet. Hermione was going to explode from need. “I know you need to come, Hermione. I can give you that release.”

He skated his fingers back and forth, purposely avoiding where she needed him most. “Tell me you want to come, Hermione. That you want me to make you come.”

His hands continued their motions for a few seconds more while Hermione squirmed and tried to keep gasps to a minimum.

Then, all at once, Draco pulled his hands away.

“No!” Hermione yelled, desperately. “Please. I’m sorry. Please, Draco. Touch me. Merlin, I can't take it. Please please please.” She knew she was babbling but Hermione couldn't stop. If she did she'd either cry or touch herself and get in trouble again. She just needed–

A moan escaped Hermione when Draco's hands returned. It was loud and wanton, the first time since the assignment began that she hadn't muffled her reaction.

Draco circled her clit continuously, occasionally dropping to grab more of her natural lubricant. His other hand worked a breast. Squeezing and kneading before focusing on her nipple. Rolling it between his thumb and forefinger or pinching it to the point of just painful. Then he switched to her other breast, repeating his ministrations.

Hermione writhed against him, breathing ragged. She was so close! Against her back, she could feel his cock growing rigid as she squirmed and couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like inside her. Would he get her ready with his fingers first? Or force his way in roughly, the way he so enjoys rough punishments?

Draco lightened his touch against her and Hermione couldn't stop her whine at the lost pressure. “Draco please please please Draco!”

She lifted her hips, chasing his fingers, but he pulled back with her movements. Her hand moved unbidden to finish herself off but Draco caught her wrist before she reached her clit. Hermione practically growled her frustration. Why was he doing this?

“Shh, it's alright,” he murmured, voice soothing. “Tell me what you need, Hermione.”

“I need to come!” The words were a desperate plea, begging him to put her out of her misery.

“Yes, I can see that.” Hermione could hear the smirk in his voice and loosed another whine. “Tell me specifically, Hermione. How would you like me to make you come? With my fingers?” His hand still ghosting over her breast tightened momentarily. “My tongue?” He licked the shell of her ear, sending shivers through her. “My cock?” He held her against him as he canted his hips up, letting her feel his hard length.

“Fingers,” Hermione blurted. She thanked Merlin that his fingers were what her body focused on after all his teasing touches. If it weren't for that, she might've given in to one of his other offers. “Touch me, Draco, please!”

Releasing her hand Draco grabbed both of her breasts. “Here?” he asked, rolling her nipples between his fingers. “Is this how you want me to touch you?”

“Ah! Draco!” Hermione had always enjoyed nipple play and didn't want him to stop. But it wasn't enough.

“Or maybe,” he brushed a hand down her abdomen, bypassing her swollen clit to trail through her juices, circling her entrance. Hermione made a squeaky sound of protest at his avoidance. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hmm? Tell me, Hermione. Be specific and tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

“I…I want you to t-touch my clit.” He rewarded her instantly, lifting a finger to press the spot she was so desperate for. “Ahh! C-circle it–ah! Little bit more pressure, mmm yes! Just like that. Don't stop.” Hermione was panting too hard, making too much noise. But she finally felt too good to stop herself. “And my–mmm–nipple. Can you p-pinch it? AH! Not so hard, yes, just there. Oh my God, Draco, I mmmmmph I-I’m…”

Hermione's hips bucked erratically against his hand, her moans taking over her mouth. “Let go, Hermione. Come for me.” Draco pressed a little harder against her clit and Hermione shattered with a scream.

Never in her life had Hermione’s pleasure been built up for so long, and she was now rewarded with her most intense orgasm. 

Her whole body tried to buck forward but his hand on her breast kept her firmly against his chest through her thrashing. Draco released her nipple, the blood rushing to it only upping the euphoria coursing through her in waves. 

When she began to settle, Draco let off pressure from her clit, circling slowly as the last of her orgasm worked its way through her. He pulled away when she finished, resting both hands neutrally on her stomach.

“You're fucking beautiful when you come apart for me.” The whisper in her ear made Hermione shiver, and she no longer knew whether that was a bad thing or not.

Draco Malfoy: husband, master, punisher, past bully, and general pain in her ass. And now: the first person besides herself to ever make her come. And so spectacularly at that! Maybe those other titles weren't such a bad thing after all.

Chapter Text

Draco leaned casually against the bathroom entrance, waiting patiently for his wife. He was hard, as he always was when he woke, but this time, there was no gorgeous woman laying beside him, waiting to fulfill her wifely duty and bring him the pleasure he was owed. There had been no large doe eyes, watching him as he slumbered, just waiting to lock with his own when they opened. It wasn't until their absence that Draco realized just how much he looked forward to that sight every morning.

He’d felt a heartbeat of panic that something had happened to her to force her anywhere other than by his side. And then his brain woke up enough to realise she was just going to the bathroom, and he couldn’t help the momentary rage that passed through him. How dare she break a rule so soon after he’d rewarded her. She’d begged him for release, and when he gave her exactly what she needed, this is how she repaid him? 

The anger dissipated as soon as he stood. All this really did was provide him another reason to punish her, and he did love doing that. Did it matter that he wouldn’t get off before they left the bed, if he was still going to get off before classes started? 

Not at all. Now, he’d get to fuck her throat on top of the lovely view of her very punished ass. 

Hermione opened the door after flushing, still as nude as Draco had required of her for days. That punishment was now over, but perhaps he would extend it? It was always a lovely sight to see every inch of her at any given time. To have full access to that perfect ass that he might very well not see the normal skin tone of again for the duration of this project. 

She startled when her eyes landed on him in the doorway, likely just a silhouette with the morning light coming from bedroom windows behind him. He felt like he made quite an imposing figure, regardless of the tent in his boxers. 

“Draco!” 

“Me.” 

“I’ll just…” Hermione walked past him to her sink to wash her hands. When she finished, she turned back to him, face downcast. 

“Do you have anything you’d like to say for yourself?” 

“I’m sorry, Draco. I know I broke a rule, but I had to! I was desperate. I would’ve soiled the bed if I’d stayed any longer.” 

To her credit, Draco didn’t feel any hint of a squeezing lie from his ring. She had been desperate. She would have pissed the bed. And she did feel remorse for it. This felt like progress. 

“I believe you.” 

Hermione’s shoulders slumped in relief, but it didn’t last. 

“That’s not to say you won’t be punished for breaking the rule.” Her face fell, arms coming up to hug herself around her middle. 

Quietly she asked, “What was I supposed to do? Do you want me to pee everywhere next time?” 

Draco scoffed. “No, of course not. I want you to wake me up with my cock already in your mouth, eagerly sucking me off with vigor in your desperation to get to the toilet sooner.” 

By the look on her face, the idea of waking him that way had never crossed her mind. More’s the pity for her, all the better for me to teach her. 

“Well, if you’re done here, your punishment has two parts this morning.” Draco nodded back to the bedroom in a silent order to follow him.  

He illuminated the room, to allow a better view of her ass, still very bruised from yesterday morning’s punishment. Should he keep the bruising consistent and use the hairbrush again? After both it and the belt, his hand was feeling insufficient. 

The question really came down to this: how well did he want to drive home the idea that she should wake him with a blowjob, instead of waiting for him to awaken naturally. It took no thought at all for Draco to decide that it was a very good thing for her to learn, and he was obligated to do his husbandly duty to help the lesson sink in  

But this wasn’t nearly as bad of a transgression as what she’d done to earn the brush before, so Draco would settle for his belt.  

Hermione followed him to their bed, where he ordered her to lay over it, her cheek against the mattress so he could still see her face. She spread her legs wide at his command, exposing all of her to his hungry gaze. Draco had finally gotten to touch her last night. To feel her smooth skin as he teased up and down her torso. To squeeze the breasts that have been bouncing tauntingly in front of him for days. To circle her sensitive little clitoris, bringing her right over the edge of pleasure into bliss. It had been even better than Draco imagined. 

He wanted to do so much more. He could be patient though. She would beg for him to fuck her before much longer. 

A wave of his wand had the bed raising until Hermione was forced onto her toes, lifting her ass to just the perfect angle for him. He summoned his belt from his armoire before setting his wand back down.  

Folding the belt on itself, Draco trailed the now-rounded end down Hermione’s back. Fascinated when her skin prickled with gooseflesh, he did it again, satisfied for this very valid reason to prolong the suspense. 

He lifted the belt then, and Hermione tensed, anticipating the first strike against her battered ass. But Draco just lowered the edge against her thigh and dragged it up, making her shiver.  

Again, she tensed when the belt was removed, and again, Draco dragged it along another strip of flesh. The third time, Draco nudged against her sex, pleased with her harsh breath. He dragged it up through her crack, leaving it in place when she spoke. 

“Draco.” It was a plea and a question, all wrapped up in a breathy need he knew she didn't want him to hear. It was so close to how she'd said his name last night. The way she'd begged him in her desperation for him to make her come. 

But even if it was tinged differently, he did hear it. He hadn't even needed the tingling radiating from his ring to tell him that Hermione was turned on by this. By having herself on display. By having these soft touches across her skin. By having the threat of pain hanging over her head. Draco thought he could come just from endlessly teasing her if he really wanted to. 

“Hmm?” he inquired, curious what she would say. He continued his process of dragging the belt around her. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Punishing you, of course.” 

“I thought you were going to…”  

Draco stopped his motion again when she trailed off. “Thought I was going to…what? Tell me, Hermione.” 

It took her a minute to answer, but Draco was patient. He knew she'd answer eventually. And one day, finding the words wouldn't be quite so difficult for her. 

“To…spank me?” 

“ How did you think I was going to spank you?” Draco would always push her to be more specific. He wanted to hear her every thought and feeling. He wanted her expectations. How else could he surpass them?  

“With your belt.” 

“That is part of the plan, yes. Would you prefer I spank you with something else?” 

“I…don't know.” 

Draco’s ring squeezed as he lifted the belt yet again, glad when she didn't tense up this time, having gotten used to his repeated actions. He swung it hard, allowing it to crack against Hermione's ass. 

She screeched, pitching forward across the bed, out of the position he'd put her in. 

“Yes, you do.” Her lie only served to extend her punishment this morning. “Tell me the truth, Hermione. It won't change the reality that you'll be disciplined with my belt this morning, but you'll never be in trouble for telling me the truth.” Draco returned to dragging his belt softly across her body. “Tell me what implement you prefer being spanked with.” 

The answer was whispered when she was finally ready to confess. “Your hand.” 

Draco hummed, lifting and replacing the belt again. “I thought as much. Was that so hard to admit?” 

“Yes,” she mumbled and Draco grinned. 

“That's a shame. But I guess it's only been a matter of days. It'll get easier over the month.” He paused before asking, “ Where did you think I'd spank you?” He wanted every explicit detail from her lips, and if he had to hold her hand to get her to spell it out, so be it.  

She blushed slightly at that question, tinging her skin a perfect rouge shade he loved to see. “My ass,” the words were quiet as she fought to keep her cheek plastered where he'd told her instead of burying her face to hide from him. 

Drank brought the belt down hard once again, Hermione gasping at the impact. And then he continued trailing it around while her body began to shake. 

“Yes, we've established that place already. Where else do you think?” 

“My…thighs?” Hermione’s answer was more forthcoming this time, which pleased him. She managed to do so much to please him, even when she constantly misbehaved. 

“Indeed.” Draco smacked the belt across her thighs, watching her jolt from the impact and grit her teeth from the pain. 

Without promoting, Hermione continued, flaring pride in Draco's chest. Even quieter she asked, “And my…my clit?”   

“Mmm,” Draco answered, roving the belt back and forth on her aforementioned nub. “Do you enjoy having your clit spanked, Hermione?” 

Chilled tingles ran down his fingers from the ring, telling him exactly what she thought of that idea.  

“Do you like the shock of pain where you're most sensitive? Crave the sore feel of it afterward? Do you want me to spank you here?” The belt was still running against her clit, keeping all her focus on her heightened arousal. 

She did bury her face then, keeping her mouth turned out enough to speak. “I'm afraid to answer.” 

Draco halted his movements, wanting them both focused on her words more than he cared about continuing to tease. “What are you afraid of? Remember, I won't punish or judge you for the truth. Never, Hermione. Tell me.” 

“I'm afraid you'll think I'm lying. I don't even know if it's a lie.” 

Now he was even more curious. Draco knelt beside her and lightly gripped her exposed chin. A gentle tug directed her to turn out of her hiding spot to look at him, as she was expected to do while speaking. Draco wanted her eyes on him always, and more importantly, he wanted to be able to see her eyes. 

“Thank you for sharing your worries. I want you to do that, always. I'll give you this one for free, alright. Answer my question, and even if I think you're lying, I won't further punish you for it.” All rules had exceptions, and this would be one. Draco didn't want fear to ever keep her from speaking to him. “Do you want me to spank your clit, Hermione?” He reiterated the question to make sure no meanings were minced, down on her level and staring into her eyes, hoping he came across as unthreatening. If only in this instance.  

Hermione's eyes fluttered but she didn't try to turn away again as her blush returned in force. Her answer was barely louder than a breath. “I don't know.” 

Draco blinked, unsure what he'd expected. The ring didn't tighten at her admission. She didn't know. Hermione wasn't sure yet if she enjoyed having her pussy slapped and abused. But that made perfect sense to Draco. He'd only done so once, and that had been a harsh punishment spanking; she wasn't supposed to enjoy that.   

But that she didn't know if she disliked it, even after that, told Draco that she very likely would enjoy it when he wasn't aiming to hurt. A fresh wave of arousal swept through Draco at that realization, and he suddenly really wished he'd had plans to spank her pussy this morning. 

“I see. I'm glad you told me honestly, Hermione.” The ring had fallen still during their discussion and her embarrassment–something Draco was happy to note for later–but renewed a soft tingling at his reaction. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear as he stood, returning to teasing his belt across her backside. 

“Today won't be the day you find that out for sure, unfortunately. I'll never spank anywhere but your ass and thighs with the belt. The angle of the swing just doesn't work well to hit between your legs, and I prefer different implements for other areas.” Ones that he hoped to use with her at some point this month. Or beyond, if things went his way. 

Hermione nodded her understanding, likely satisfied by this new piece of knowledge. Draco continued to tease. Around and around, lifting and dipping back down, feeling her low arousal disappear to frustration. 

“Will you just get it over with already?” Her voice was more of a demand than a question, and Draco smirked. He liked when her fire came back out to play. 

“Get what over with?” he asked, feigning confusion. 

“My punishment!” The exasperation in her voice had Draco squeezing his cock with his free hand. It had remained hard this entire time, making him regret just slightly the order he decided to dole out her punishments in. 

“Are you really so eager for me to redden this ass? For me to set it on fire with the burning pain that comes with the constant smacks?” Draco timed the next blow to land with his word, nearly giddy at constantly catching Hermione off guard.  

Through her teeth, Hermione gritted a rough, “No,” and Draco momentarily wished the rings allowed him to feel her pain to better judge his punishments. Three strokes wasn't even a beginning, generally speaking. But on top of the damage he had done yesterday? It was hard to tell for sure. 

Three red stripes had sprung up across her skin, bright compared to the dull bruising covering her. The contrast was beautiful, but that was nothing less than expected considering it was her skin decorated with the rainbow of color. 

Draco added another stripe, surprised when a tear escaped Hermione’s eye. Her pain threshold today was lower than he would’ve guessed. Good thing he was taking this round so slow. Draco applauded his own instincts.  

“Have you considered that making you wait is part of your discipline this morning?” He spanked her again before continuing. “You’re not exactly the most patient person I’ve met, Hermione. I think adding in some wait periods would be good for your further development towards becoming an excellent spouse.” She snorted at that, which Draco chose to ignore, opting to swing the belt against her sit spots instead. 

“Or perhaps it’s not part of your punishment. Maybe yesterday I discovered just how much I enjoy seeing you squirm.” 

Hermione blushed slightly at that, thinking about exactly what he wanted her to. About how she sat fully exposed and helpless in his lap. So needy that she actually begged him to get her off. Desperate for his touch–the only touch that could bring her pleasure. 

Draco ran the edge of the belt across her slit several times. “Could be that I want to make you as needy for me as yesterday, just so I can deny you. Afterall, that’s what you did to me, isn’t it?” 

Hermione pushed up on her forearms, whipping her head fully around to face him then, so he had a clear view of her flinch of pain as he spanked her yet again. “No, I didn’t mean–” 

“Unfortunately, your intentions are irrelevant in this instance. The reality is what matters. I woke up hard and aching, and turned to my wife to help me find relief. But you weren’t there, Hermione. I know we haven’t been married for long, but my body has already grown very accustomed to certain expectations. Certain rules. ” 

Hermione was crying now as the belt came down again. Her mouth hung open as if she was going to protest his point. She lowered back down, letting the sheet dry her eyes. 

“And after rewarding you last night…” Draco let the belt hang in his hand, no longer teasing her with it. “Well. I expected better from you after you’d managed to earn a reward.” 

Draco landed the ninth stroke along her upper thighs. “I’m disappointed in you, Hermione.” 

It was that proclamation that had her burying her face in the comforter and sobbing. Her final stroke was softer than the rest, more to satisfy Draco’s need to fulfill his punishing expectations than to continue disciplining.  

He dropped the belt and sat beside her on the bed. “Shh, Hermione, come here.” His voice was gentle as he lightly grabbed her shoulders to guide her towards his lap. She let him lead her head into his lap, where he stroked her hair away from her face and rubbed soothing circles over her back. 

“I’m sorry,” she croaked between sniffles. “I wasn’t trying to… deny you pleasure.” 

“Shh, it’s alright. I know you didn’t do it maliciously. Do you understand why your spanking was necessary? I don’t do it to hurt you, Hermione. Discipline is there to help you better learn and understand what’s expected of you.” 

Hermione nodded, which Draco allowed since he wasn’t really asking a question. But that reminded him. 

“Now, that was part 1 of your punishment for leaving the bed this morning. Now we’re going to deal with your punishment for lying when I asked you a question.” Draco grabbed a small vial out of the drawer in his bedside table. He uncorked it and handed it to Hermione. 

“Drink up, please.” She studied it a moment before Draco decided to take out the guess work. “It’s a Mute-o-genic. I brewed it so that I’ll be the only person you can speak to for the next 24 hours. Your voice simply won’t work if you attempt to converse with anyone else.” 

Hermione looked horror-stricken. “But– 

“I’ll be sending a note to Professor Compton to let him know your situation, and he’ll inform any other necessary instructors so you don’t get in trouble in class. Now,” Draco tipped the vial in her hand towards her mouth, “drink up, Hermione.” 

She hesitated, but did as she was told in one gulp. “Good girl,” Draco praised, feeling the slight tingle from his ring in response. He took the vial back and stood. “Get ready for class, and then we'll start on the second part of your punishment for not having your mouth waiting for me.” 

-----------

When Hermione came out of the bedroom, Draco was sitting at the table nibbling on a pastry, a steaming cup of tea in front of him.  

“You're not eating yet, come here,” he said as she'd been heading for the kitchen. Draco had sat with his back to their room, so she wouldn't notice until she rounded him. Draco was ready for the day, with the exception of his unfastened pants and lowered underwear, allowing his erection to stand free and clear for Hermione to see. She still hadn't gotten him off, after all. 

She paused when she saw, looking from his crotch up to his face. “ Now do you want me to…suck you off?” 

Draco smiled. She hadn't let the sentence trail off with a wave of her hand to indicate her possible action. She'd voiced it. Hermione was learning.  

“Of course not, the time for that has passed.” Draco actually would like that very much, but this was a lesson in discipline, and sometimes sacrifices had to be made. “I find that my cock is feeling quite chilled today. You're going to keep it warm.” 

Her brow furrowed. “I don't understand.” 

“On your knees, Hermione.” Draco's chair was already angled away from the table, prepared for this. She knelt and looked up at him, seeking further instruction. It took Draco a second to remember what they were doing. That look on her face–that she wasn't afraid or in pain or worried, but wanted to please him. She wanted to be his good girl–nearly made him abandon the plan, grab her behind the neck and pull her into a heated kiss. After everything, they still hadn't done that, and Draco was hungry for it. 

He cleared his throat, reminding himself that each lesson now would make things all the better for them later. He could wait. He had to. 

“You’re going to hold my cock in your mouth until I'm done with breakfast and it's time to go.” 

She reached out a hand to angle the head towards her and then stopped. “Just…hold it in my mouth. Won't that be kind of hard for you?” Her eyes were wide where they met his again. 

“Well yes, but as you can see I've been hard for quite a while.” She rolled her eyes and he smirked, enjoying this more lighthearted side of things. “But I'm willing to suffer through having this,” he lifted a hand to her chin, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. He wanted to slip the digit in, feel her suck on it. He had to focus. “-delectable mouth on me to teach you a very important lesson.” 

He dropped his hand, not wanting to obstruct her from beginning. 

“And what lesson, exactly, is that?” 

Draco decided he'd have to get her started. Gently, he gripped the back of her head, pushing it towards his waiting erection. She opened her mouth obediently, taking the head in. Draco suppressed a groan, but couldn't help from twitching in her mouth. She sucked at the head in response, which felt fantastic but was not the plan here. Applying more pressure to her head, he forced her mouth further down his shaft. 

“No sucking, Hermione. Your mouth is just a sleeve to keep my cock warm.” When she didn't try to pull away, Draco removed the pressure on her and began petting her hair as a reward. “Just like that, Hermione. Well done.”  

The tingle those words caused in the ring did nothing to help how turned on he was. His cock bobbed again in her mouth and she pulled back slightly to readjust and fully seat him inside her once more. He hummed his pleasure at that. He hadn't needed to press her head down again. 

Leisurely, he took a sip of tea and a bite of food, giving her time to follow his instructions before he explained. 

“The lesson here is that your mouth belongs on my cock. I want it there. It doesn't matter if I'm doing homework, sleeping, brewing a potion, or chatting with friends. It is never a bad time for you to take me in your mouth.” 

She was looking up at him as best she could with the angle she was forced to hold. 

“That last one sounds fun doesn't it? Maybe I'll invite Blaise over and have you show what a good girl you can be by sucking me off in front of him.” 

Panic crossed her face at that and she tried to pull off of him, but Draco held her head in place. Immediately, his ring finger felt like it'd been dipped in ice water. When Hermione started choking around him, the rest of his hand was plunged through ice, and Draco pulled her free for just a second. “Swallow. Breathe. Open.” He was pushing her back down before she'd even had a chance to do the third, forcing her lips to part around him. She was still panicking but the freezing didn't creep into his wrist, so Draco was sure she'd be fine. He had his chilled hand firmly in place on the top of her head and used the other to soothe down the side of her face. 

“Calm, Hermione. We won't do anything with an audience.” It took a minute for her breathing to calm, and Draco could feel each rough breath through her nose against the head of his cock. He could fuck her throat right now so easily. His hand was already in control of her head. She wouldn't be able to stop him. 

And wouldn't that be a worthy punishment befitting her crime? Fail to suck him off and instead he gets control of her mouth? 

But with her breathing evening back out, the cold receded into the ring. Draco let his desire dispel as well, letting off the pressure he'd held her by, and letting her adjust around him. 

Draco took exhibitionism firmly off his mental list of fun things to try with her. He'd felt occasional prickles of fear from the ring as she was presented with each new thing, but nothing had been like the pure unadulterated terror she'd felt at that idea, other than when he'd taken off her belt thinking he was going to rape her. He never wanted that ice–her distress–to prickle his skin again. 

Leaving a hand to continue soothing her, Draco returned to his breakfast. Ignoring her entirely would be ideal, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stop trying to assure her.  

Hermione's tongue ran along the bottom of his shaft occasionally, adjusting. Every other minute she would pull free to swallow, and Draco decided to take pride in the fact that his cock made her mouth water so thoroughly. A gentle bit of suction here or a rub along the roof of her mouth there. It made concentrating on breakfast nearly impossible. 

But Draco remained steadfast, not allowing any reaction outside of his dick’s traitorous twitching. 

Until Hermione's arousal made itself known with a single tingle radiating from the ring that shot itself straight to Draco's groin. His hips lifted just slightly before he realized, and Hermione automatically moved her head to suck in response to his motion. It only made the ring tingle more, one twinge after another crossing down his hand and up his arm. 

And Draco, who'd woken up hard and done nothing but further his own arousal all morning, couldn't help it as he fucked up into her mouth. 

A muffled squeak of surprise escaped her throat at his action, but the tingling didn't cease. Draco did it again. His hand on her head now gripped instead of soothed, keeping her mouth perfectly in place for his use as he lifted his hips. 

He pulled her free for a moment, just a quick break and a chance for her to protest. But he knew she wouldn't. Hermione was too turned on by being used in this way. Her arousal was intoxicating. Draco would never get enough. 

Shoving her back down, he kept his hips still. His grip on her hair allowed him to pull her up and down his shaft perfectly. 

He had no hope of lasting and didn't try, coming in her mouth with no warning. He pushed her head down further than he had all morning, grinding the tip of his cock against the back of her throat as he unloaded one hot spurt after another into her. Hermione sputtered a bit but managed to contain his entire load until she could swallow it.  

With the tingles from his ring heightening his own arousal, Draco had come harder than he could remember doing in years. He wanted to do it again, which would be a problem.  

Released, Hermione stood and checked the time. They needed to go, but Draco grabbed her wrist to prevent her from running off. “Are you alright?” He had to be sure he hadn’t hurt her. Fucking into her throat wasn’t part of the plan. 

Her shoulders relaxed at the question and she smiled shyly. “I’m fine, really. Let me grab a muffin and we can go.” 

The faintest of tingling still emitted from the ring, but no compression. Draco hadn’t hurt her. He hadn’t moved them too quickly. With an internal sigh of relief, Draco released her and set about buttoning up his clothes. 

Before they walked out the door, Draco stopped her again. “We’ll spend lunch and our afternoon free period here, continuing your discipline. We’ll ensure you understand the irrelevance of timing and place when it comes to filling you.” 

She blushed, looking down. “I’ll be here,” she confirmed and then walked out the door. 

Chapter Text

Four different people had asked Hermione if she wanted them to escort her to Madame Pomfrey. Three had commented on her lack of speech being an improvement.

Two professors had given her a knowing look when she didn't raise her hand during class, which only made Hermione scoot down in her seat, cheeks glowing in embarrassment. It was bad enough that she had to endure this humiliation as punishment, but for them to know about it? She wanted to cry. 

Lunch was a welcome reprieve.  

Draco had beaten her back to their dwelling, greeting her when she entered. She said hello reflexively, and then beamed when the word actually left her mouth.  

They chatted while they ate, which Hermione quite enjoyed. She didn't know if it was the company or the fact that she was finally able to speak that led to such an amiable conversation.  

Draco interrupted her occasionally, reminding her to have another bite. She always did so at his nudge, grateful for the prompting since she'd been short on time for breakfast, but lamenting the momentary loss of speech each time. This freedom to speak wouldn't last much longer, and Hermione wanted to take full advantage of it. 

When they were through eating, Draco led her to the couch, making her kneel between his knees like this morning. He pulled his penis out, surprising Hermione to see he was already starting to harden. She didn't have any skin on display and hadn't yet performed any lewd acts. She'd expected him to be completely flaccid. 

“Open up,” was all he said, and Hermione complied. She tilted him towards her mouth, feeling him grow beneath her finger tips. She sucked him in until her nose brushed against his groin, pleased that she'd finally taken every bit of him. It was a feat she never quite managed when he was fully erect. 

But it didn't last. As she held herself still, Hermione felt him swell further inside her mouth. Her jaw expanded to accommodate him, and her lips found their way backwards along his shaft as his head bumped into her throat. 

It was mildly uncomfortable to just hold him there but Hermione perked up slightly at how easy this punishment was so far compared to the others she’d endured. 

But that thought didn’t last. 

Every adjustment she made had Draco twitching against the roof of her mouth. It was such a small movement, but each time it sent a small spark of desire through her. Hermione wanted him to do it more. She wanted to lick up the vein on the underside of his cock. It was resting on her tongue already, it would be so easy to just give it an upward flick and drive him crazy. She wanted to suck, moving him in and out of her mouth. Hermione knew some women could take their partner’s cocks into their throat. She wasn’t capable of that yet, but she would never learn either if he didn’t bump the back of her throat over and over. 

Her mouth watered at the thought, forcing her to pull away again to swallow her saliva. If only it was so easy to clear away the other type of drool falling from her body right now. 

Back in place, Hermione felt the predictable twitch once again, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe the direction of her thoughts. As always, Hermione had a natural curiosity. Before this assignment she had wondered what it would be like to give someone a blow job, but she’d never guessed just how much she would enjoy it. It never would have crossed her mind that she wanted someone to push her head down their length until it could go no further and then hold her in place right up to the point that she couldn’t take it anymore. 

Draco had nearly done exactly that and Hermione was thankful he hadn’t checked how wet she’d gotten from the act. But now she wanted him to take it further. To gather her hair in his fist so she had no freedom of movement, and then use her mouth to pleasure himself as roughly as he wanted. Hermione wasn’t even sure if she’d really be able to handle that, but Merlin she wanted to try. And to think, just the other day she’d begged him not to do just that. 

Her knees were beginning to hurt and her jaw was growing increasingly uncomfortable, having to accommodate his girth this way. Hermione shifted her position some, trying to relieve those physical aches or the growing thrum between her thighs. Neither succeeded.  

And Draco continued to completely ignore her. 

As soon as he’d gotten them both positioned, he’d picked up a book to read and his focus hadn’t strayed since. He didn’t look at her or correct her movements or even run his hand gently over her hair as he had this morning. He had no further reaction to the fact that his cock was in the way of her mouth closing, other than the uncontrolled twitches due to her own movements. 

The longer they remained in position though, the more Hermione's desire waned. She was uncomfortable, annoyed, and bored. 

Hermione was relieved when he checked the time. “Open up, Hermione. You did well.” The praise made her discomfort worth it. They had to get to class. But the respite didn’t last. 

After just a single lesson each, they were both back at the dwelling. Draco took the side of the couch this time, slouching in his seat. He had her lay on her side, her head resting along his lower abdomen. His cock was already free and waiting, and Hermione didn’t need Draco to spell out what he wanted from her. Opening her mouth, she took him inside. 

It was better this time. And it was worse. 

Hermione wasn’t on her knees and she didn’t have to hold her head up at an awkward angle. She got to relax her body while her sex drive worked overtime, demanding that she move against him. They had an entire class length free, so Hermione was forced to hold him for exponentially longer.  

He didn’t remain fully erect. Occasionally he’d soften, forcing Hermione to adjust so he wouldn’t slip from her mouth. That inevitably led to him hardening again. It was almost like working him in and out, but only enough to tease her. And again, he didn’t say a thing until it was time to part. 

That evening had them deviating from the couch. Hermione took the opportunity to chat at Draco. He was attentive and she was sure he would’ve taken more of an active part than humming his agreement and smiling if she’d allowed him the chance. But she just had too much to say to really give him ample opportunity to respond. 

He wasn’t complaining, so Hermione took that as permission to prattle on. It likely helped that Draco was actually busy as well, setting up a cauldron and other equipment to brew something in their kitchenette. When he was satisfied with everything’s placement, he conjured a chair in front of the counter, gesturing for her to sit. It was low enough that Hermione’s mouth was perfectly lined up with his crotch. 

Finally, Draco stepped away to remove his trousers and underpants, effectively shutting Hermione up. His erection bobbed freely, seemingly bigger than just hours ago. Hermione knew it had to be the angle playing tricks on her, but it made her eyes widen nevertheless as he returned to stand in front of her. Grabbing it at the base he lined himself up with her mouth and was pushing against her lips before she even had a chance to part them.  

He stepped slightly forward, solidifying his position deep in her mouth. Hermione leaned her head back reflexively, not making it far with the counter in the way. Draco adjusted his body even closer, keeping himself seated to his liking inside of her. His legs were on either side of where hers were extended from the too-low seat. 

Wasting no time and apparently not at all affected by their position, Draco swished his wand to begin heating his cauldron. Hermione spluttered around his cock, feeling mildly claustrophobic at her inability to shift away. Her nostrils were suddenly clogged and she couldn’t breath, causing herself to choke around him as she tried to take a breath in through her mouth. She pushed at his legs frantically and his response was immediate, backing away and freeing her from the confining position. 

“Shh, deep breaths,” Draco said in response to her loud ragged breathing. He knelt before her, snaking a hand beneath her hair to grab at the nape of her neck. Gentle pressure pulled her forward so their foreheads were touching. She closed her eyes as an escape, not even sure why she was looking for one. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what just happened.” 

Draco’s thumb began running gently back and forth against the base of her skull. It was a surprisingly effective method for calming her, reminding Hermione of all the other times he’d rubbed a repetitive motion across her skin.  

“Can you open your eyes?” Hermione did so, but couldn’t manage a verbal answer. Draco didn’t reprimand her for it. Her heart rate was lowering as her breathing evened out. His thumb kept moving. 

“You panicked.” It wasn’t a question but Hermione nodded jerkily against him anyway. “Can you tell me why? What was different this time? It’s far from the first time you’ve taken my cock in your mouth.” 

A tear slipped free, sliding down her cheek. Hermione hadn’t even realized her eyes had been watering. Draco lifted his other hand to the side of her neck, using that thumb to wipe the tear away. 

“I c-couldn’t–” Hermione took a few quick breaths, “breathe. I w-was choking.” Her heart rate increased just thinking about it. 

Gently, Draco shushed her again, letting her breathing even back out before asking, “You couldn’t breathe because you started to panic. Can you tell me what triggered that response? I can’t prevent it happening again if I don’t know what caused it, Hermione.” 

“Couldn’t move.” Later, Hermione would be annoyed with herself for not speaking in full sentences. For now they just needed to get through this. “Don’t like to be confined.” 

Draco began to pull away in reaction to that, and Hermione surged forward to stop him. Their heads hit, but Hermione didn’t care so long as it kept him in place. Her hands gripped his forearms, keeping his hands from leaving her skin cold in their wake. “Don’t leave.” 

He settled back into his hold, his thumbs beginning their trails yet again, and Hermione allowed her grip to loosen so her arms were just hanging from his. 

“Your limit?” Draco questioned, and Hermione nodded. He hadn’t actually overstepped her restriction, but her mind leaped to thinking he had. She’d suddenly felt like there was no space to move and no room to breath, triggering her claustrophobia. 

“I see.” And miraculously, Hermione believed him. She hadn’t even really explained, but his eyes were full of understanding. “Why this time and not the others?” 

Why had he been able to fuck into her throat just fine before? Why had he been able to hold her head in place without her feeling the same trapped dread?  

“This time…there was a solid surface behind me,” Hermione began, breathing more evenly. “I couldn’t pull away if I really needed to. But before, I knew If I really tried to pull away, you would’ve moved your hand and let me.” It still surprised Hermione just how much she’d grown to trust Draco in just a handful of days together.  

“When I stuck you in place yesterday in the bathroom, you literally couldn’t get away. That was against a solid surface.” 

Thinking about how spread open she’d been for him in that position made her blush. That she could react that way in this moment almost made her giggle. She blamed the adrenaline. 

“That was…different.” She was grateful that he hadn’t laughed at her unhelpful response. It was where she needed to start. “You restricted one part of me at a time. This was…sudden. Unexpected. I didn’t have time to think. And then all I could see was directly in front of me and very close to my face. In the bathroom, I was looking into the mirror, which let me see the entire room.” 

“Okay,” Draco responded. “Thank you, Hermione.” His thumb stroked slowly across her cheek. “Now that I know, I better understand how to prevent this in the future. You did well.” 

She felt her heart beat pick up at that. After a beat, Draco asked, “Are you ready for me to pull away?” 

Hermione closed her eyes because the answer was no and she didn’t want to admit it. She wasn’t even sure why she derived so much comfort from him when technically his actions are what had caused this. 

“Alright, just my head then,” he corrected, somehow knowing exactly what she needed. His hands stayed in place on her neck as his head shifted away, leaving her forehead too cool. “We’re going to try this again in just a minute, alright? You’re still going to sit here, and I’m going to stand above you while I work on brewing. When I’m in front of the cauldron, my cock will be pressing into your mouth. With me so far?” 

“Yes,” Hermione whispered with a nod. 

“Good girl.” Something about those words had more of the tension leaking from Hermione, and she dropped her hands to her lap. “When I have to lean further over the counter, it’s going to press you into the counter again, but we won’t stay there long. Just a couple seconds and you’ll get to come forward again. Yes?” 

Hermione blinked, considering his words. Could she handle that? Being pressed between him and the counter again, if only briefly? Her breathing stuttered again, unsure. 

“Hermione.” It was a command, pulling her out of her head. “Look to the left.”  

Confused, she did so, looking out to the dining area. She returned her gaze to his, glad that his hands had followed her movements along her neck.  

“Now look to the right.” 

Again, Hermione obeyed, viewing the short distance between her and the cabinets lining that wall of the space. 

“Now tell me: do you have space on both sides of you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes,” he repeated, “you do. But you don’t have space behind you, right?” 

“No,” Hermione agreed. 

“Good. So if you need to pull away from me, don’t try to pull backwards. You pull to either side. Do you understand?” 

Hermione looked towards the dining area again, considering that. She was attempting to picture it. Draco above her, pushing her back. Could she move to the side if she needed to?  

“I…think so?” 

“Give me your hand.” 

She presented him with her right hand, curious but trusting him to know what was best here. He had to remove a hand from her neck to place hers on his bare thigh, drawing her attention downward for the first time and finding him having gone completely soft. At least she knew he didn’t get off on her panic then, which was good. 

Draco placed his hand over hers, squeezing. “Squeeze my thigh twice if you need me to move away. You squeeze and I’ll stop. Do you believe me, Hermione? Do you trust that I’ll pull away the second you need me to?” 

Louder than she’d answered anything since her panic began, Hermione said, “Yes.” Draco had done nothing but prove himself to her over and over. She had no doubt that he would pull away if she signaled him to. 

“Good, Hermione. I’m going to stand up now.” Hermione nodded her understanding, wishing his hand could’ve stayed in place forever. 

Draco filled a glass with water for her to drink, which she gulped down, having not noticed her rising thirst. He set it aside when she finished and then he stepped in front of her again. Fondling himself directly in front of her had Hermione blushing, which was ridiculous and made him smirk. She could see it pulse in reaction to her as Draco swelled before her. 

Hand on the base, he stepped closer. “Look to the side,” she did so. “You have plenty of room, Hermione. Now, open for me.” 

Looking up to meet his eyes, she did so. Draco advanced slowly, the head of his cock teasing at her lips for a moment before pushing in. When he was halfway seated, Draco paused. “Still okay? You can nod or squeeze my leg to respond.” 

Hermione nodded as well as she could with him filling her mouth, but Draco was satisfied with that. His feet inched forward, pressing further in until he was nearly fully seated. He arched an eyebrow in question, and Hermione nodded again. 

“Hand on my thigh, Hermione. I want you to keep it there so you don’t forget. Squeeze twice if you need me to stop.” 

And with that, Draco set about brewing. 

It was the first time they’d done this when Draco wasn’t at rest, and it was an adjustment. His cock was moving around her mouth more than she was used to. His hips dragged him to and fro as he brewed and Hermione struggled not to suck. When she failed to swallow around him she could feel her panic rising, feeling like she was going to choke on her own spit. 

“Let it drip out,” Draco commanded, knowing the problem immediately. “Trying to swallow feels too good anyway and I can’t stop in the middle of this potion to get off.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened, horrified at his suggestion. She couldn’t just make that kind of mess! 

“Let your saliva drip before it becomes overwhelming, Hermione. It isn’t gross or whatever else you might be thinking.” Draco held up two strands of abraxan hair to compare lengths. “It’s actually wildly hot.” He glanced down at her before returning to his task. “Seeing a woman drooling with a dick in her mouth is a wet dream, Hermione.” He pulsed in her mouth as if to prove his point. 

She continued staring up as best she could, looking for some indication that he was having her on. But Draco went back to ignoring her presence, pretending that she was nothing but a sleeve to keep his cock warm. Her mouth was too full, leaving her with little choice.  

Closing her eyes, Hermione allowed her jaw to relax around Draco’s erection, giving her saliva the space to slide free of her mouth. It hit her lip and immediately spilled over, making her squeak in mortification when it dribbled onto her chin. Draco twitched yet again at the vibration from the sound she made, which somehow was the lifting of a flood gate, allowing her entire mouthful to pour free. 

Some clung to her skin, sliding down her neck. Other globs fell from her chin onto her clothes. It wasn't long before her shirt was soaked.  

Mortified, Hermione peaked her eyes open. And there Draco was, no longer pretending she didn’t exist. Heat danced in his eyes as he stared past the mess now covering her face to the material sticking to her chest. Hermione blushed at the attention, glad to find he did seem to enjoy her mouth spilling over. It pleased her to please him. 

His nostrils flared and his hand fisted on the edge of the counter. A sound of shattering glass preceded a sharp jerk from Draco and low cursing. He stepped away from her, pulling his cock free in the process. Hermione’s mouth followed him reflexively, as did her hand on his thigh until he’d stepped too far away. 

“Draco?” she inquired after swallowing and clearing her throat. 

“Just a small cut, stay there.” 

He rinsed his hand before wrapping a bandage around it and swishing his wand to clear away the broken vial. He returned to his position without another word, pushing his cock right back into place as if he hadn’t left. It was only a minute before he pulled away again. 

“What are you doing?” 

But he didn’t answer. Draco grabbed a vial from the far counter–a replacement for what he broke, she realized–and came right back to his spot in front of her. Again, his cock slid into her mouth as if it belonged there. As if its place atop her tongue was its home. A spark of heat dashed through her at the thought, immediately followed by shame. What was wrong with her that she was turned on at being used in this way? 

“Your hand,” he reminded, breaking Hermione from her thoughts before they could spiral too far down the path of regret and disgust. 

She replaced her palm against his thigh, squeezing reflexively. His eyes flicked down to her, his movements frozen. Hermione knew he was waiting for the second squeeze, preparing to pull away if something was wrong. She didn’t loosen her grip, using him to ground herself. This was a punishment. The act was sexual in nature so it really only stood to reason that it would affect her sexually as well. There was nothing wrong with that. 

Draco went back to his work when she didn’t further indicate her distress. 

He didn’t leave her again for the remainder of their time there, and Hermione didn’t know if that was because he didn’t really need to, or because her grip never wavered. Had he remained solely to be her anchor?  

Too long later, Draco finally finished his brew. It was the longest he’d used her yet and Hermione’s jaw and clothes were paying the price. He helped her to her feet, telling her she could clean up before dinner. She wasted no time in retreating to the bathroom to do so. 

— 

Hermione was given a break for the rest of the evening. She was able to eat at her leisure and lounge around their living space. She finished an assignment before settling in with a book. At least until Draco informed her that they would be going to bed early so he could get off. 

“Here,” he offered, handing her a sheer blue babydoll nightie. “This and nothing else.” 

Hermione took the garment, frowning. He’d never denied her underwear before–if you didn’t count her nudity punishment. She changed in the bathroom, emerging to find Draco shirtless and sitting against the headboard with a book in hand. The blanket was pulled over his lap. 

She approached the bed, focusing on making out the title of his book and trying not to ogle his abs too blatantly. It was a good distraction from the fact that the nightie barely covered her ass. It wasn’t like it mattered, considering Draco could see right through it if he only looked up. Regardless of how much was or wasn’t covered, he’d already seen every bare inch of her. Why, then, did this feel more intimate? More private.  

Pulling the cover back, Hermione slid into the bed. Draco pushed his own blanket down to reveal his complete nudity, his cock straining as if the confines of his very skin were too restricting. His face remained passive somehow, while this part of him had Hermione sure that he was ready to burst from all the teasing today. It didn't help that it was framed by the very toned abs Hermione was trying to pretend didn't exist. The combination of these two parts of him were impossible to look away from. 

He beckoned her forward, helping to position her head in his lap, where her mouth was slowly pushed down onto his cock, yet again. Hermione sighed internally, bored of the repetitive discipline. But this time, his hand fell to the back of her head, gently petting her as he had that morning. She perked up at the touch, wondering if this was the beginning of him holding her head in place to fuck into her mouth like she’d been dreaming of earlier in the day. 

Heat pooled low in her abdomen and Hermione squeezed her thighs together, hoping to stave off any wetness from dripping out of her. She didn’t have any underwear on to contain it. 

But Draco didn’t hold her head steady to be used for his pleasure. He didn’t push her down and pull her up, dragging her lips and tongue along his shaft. He didn’t lift his hips to help his cock meet the back of her throat. 

Draco just…sat there. Reading his book and occasionally dragging a hand down her head. Hermione sagged, a frustrated breath rushing from her nose. 

“Problem, Hermione?” 

She tilted her head to peek up at Draco, who had an eyebrow raised. Her attempt to grumble ended up closer to a hum, and when his cock twitched in her mouth, Hermione very purposely pushed her head further down his length before pulling back to the more comfortable resting area. 

“You can lift up. Let’s talk.” 

Hermione wasted no time in popping her mouth off of him and sitting up. Draco’s book fell to his lap, a finger between the pages holding his place. “Haven’t we done this enough?” 

“Done…what?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, seeing no reason she should have to spell it out. “This! Me holding your cock in my mouth! You said we were going to bed because you were ready to get off.” 

“Ah, I see. So you’re eager for me to use you then?” 

“I–no, I just–” 

Draco’s hand flexed and Hermione realized he was reacting to whatever feedback he’d just gotten from his ring. She paled, recognizing that she’d just lied. Hermione wasn’t sure if she was more angry at herself for slipping up once again or for the fact that she did want him to use her. 

Noticing the direction of her attention, Draco squeezed his hand into a fist. “Yes, we’ll get to that when we’re done talking.” Draco lifted a hand to her chin, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “You do remember why you’ve been warming my cock all day, correct?” 

“Of course. The lesson is that my mouth belongs on your cock. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing; it’s never a bad time for me to take you in my mouth.” Hermione paraphrased his words from earlier that morning, glad to have an easy question to answer for once. 

Draco dropped his hand. “Yes, exactly. It seems you do understand the point of this punishment, so then why are you so put out by it?” 

“Because I’m bored!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. 

Draco laughed at her outburst, a full, warm laugh. Not a cruel snicker at anyone's expense. Not the forced tittering when he was sucking up to someone. An actual, real, chuckle. Hermione felt her cheeks heat at the sound. She wanted to hear it more. 

Draco settled with a content smile on his face, his head tilted to look at her. “It’s a punishment, Hermione. You aren’t supposed to enjoy it.” 

Her face heated more at that, now in embarrassment. “Well, yes, I know that, obviously. I just…can we please, please, be done with it? I’ve had enough! Draco, please, I’m going to go crazy if I have to keep doing this.” 

Draco’s smile slowly transformed to a smirk then, and Hermione feared she might regret her action. 

“Very well. It’s been a long day, and I do need to get off.” Draco abandoned his book on his nightstand and threw off the covers, giving Hermione a glimpse of his tanned legs. He slid down until he was comfortably laying his head on the pillow before glancing back at Hermione. “Climb on.” 

Her brow furrowed, not really sure what Draco meant. She crawled and placed a hand on the sheets on either side of his torso.  

“No, not like that. Mouth on my cock, Hermione.” 

She lifted up, angry. “You just said–” 

“Did I say your mouth wouldn’t be on my cock?” 

Hermione’s mouth snapped closed. He hadn’t said that. She took a deep breath to try and calm her frustrations. When that failed, she shifted along the mattress until she could lower her mouth to take him in once again. But before she could even settle in for however long she’d be stuck there this time, Draco was shifting. He grabbed her hips, dragging her legs to straddle his chest. 

Hermione freed her mouth as he pulled her further towards his face. Before she had a chance to splutter anything out, Draco was delivering several stinging slaps in rapid succession, all in the same spot on her ass. 

“Ow, OW!” 

“That was for the lie. Now, moving on. This is how I’m using your body tonight.” He replaced his spanking hand on her hip to pull her closer to his face. “I want you to suck me off while I finally taste you.” 

The throb in her ass from the sudden punishment was quickly forgotten in the face of something new. What if he hated how she tasted? She might be absolutely disgusting. Had she wiped well enough the last time she’d gone to the bathroom? If she was awful enough he wouldn’t be able to get off, and then what would happen? What if she didn’t like how it felt? Maybe it would tickle and she’d be forced to endure the torture for his sake. What if she couldn’t suck him well enough while he was distracting her? 

When Hermione remained frozen, Draco tilted his head to look around her ass, meeting her eye. “Hermione.” Her name on his lips pulled Hermione back from the fears spiraling through her brain. “Stop overthinking. You’re going to enjoy this, and I’m going to get off on it.” He paused for a moment, searching her for something she couldn’t name. “Are you alright with this?” 

Hermione ducked her head, quietly admitting, “Yes.” 

Draco gestured back towards her focus. “Mouth on my cock.” 

Hermione nodded, finding a calming solace in the simple command. It helped to quiet her worries and absolve her of any guilt for giving in. For wanting this. Never would she have guessed that she would come to rely on being bossed around. 

Turning her body back around, Hermione lowered her head. As soon as his tip passed her lips, Draco tugged at her hips, and Hermione felt the first long lick of his tongue. “Ahh!” she yelped, surprised. Draco’s cock bobbed against his stomach, forgotten. 

He ignored her, licking another strip from her clit to her entrance. “Merlin, you're already wet for me.” Another lick. “You taste amazing.” When he focused his ministrations on her clit, Hermione tried to jerk away instinctively, but Draco just tightened his grip, pulling her more firmly against his mouth. “Can’t believe I waited so long to do this.” His breathy words against her wet flash had Hermione shivering, but his continued focus on her clit had her panting. 

Until he stopped. Hermione squeaked in protest, but Draco shifted her to the side so he could see her face again. “Your mouth is not where it should be. Didn’t you just tell me you understood the lesson? Perhaps your punishment needs to be extended.” 

“No! I’m sorry.” Hermione lowered her upper body in record time, taking his erection into her mouth for the hundredth time in the same day. And then she fell back on what she’d practiced all day, unable to do more than hold him in her mouth as Draco continued to lick and sick at her most sensitive part. 

Every moan he coaxed from her body had his hips lifting, dragging his cock back and forth along her tongue. Each gasp somehow reminded her she was supposed to be doing something too, and she’d bob her head down a time or two before getting lost in sensation again. When he had worked her near the edge again, Hermione started whimpering around his cock. She was suddenly glad for the mouthful, afraid she’d actually be begging him not to stop if she were able. 

Draco seemed to notice the change, his grip tightening on her hips, as if she’d actually try to pull away at this point. But just a moment later he was lifting his knees to place his feet flat on the bed, and Hermione realized it was as best as he could hold her while fucking up into her mouth. 

He did so with abandon. Hermione opened her mouth wide, hoping to prevent him from scraping along her teeth. This seemed to be the right move. Draco jerked his hips up again and again, ramming the head of his cock against the back of her throat, while somehow managing to continue moving his tongue against her. Hermione didn’t know how he could handle doing both but she’d never been so thankful for his talent. 

The way he was using her right now could not have been more perfect. It was the force she’d dreamed of, while still giving her the control to pull away. She still wanted him to control her head one day, to force her head down until her nose was buried in his pubes and then hold her there, taking as much pleasure for himself as he could. But this was an excellent stepping stone to get them there and Hermione was enraptured.  

Between that and the sudden increase in pressure as Draco sucked her clit, Hermione found herself screaming around his cock as her body exploded with pleasure. It wracked through her in waves, her body shaking with a level of ecstasy she’d never achieved by herself.  

As she was coming down, Draco’s mouth slowing to match her waning heart beat, Hermione felt the first spurt from Draco’s release shoot into her mouth. She choked a little, her gag muffled with his cock still thrusting through his orgasm, but Hermione was better able to focus now that he’d stopped paying her so much attention.  

She closed her mouth around him to provide a last bit of friction for him to rub against until he fell still. His feet slid down unceremoniously, his legs falling flat with a thump. Carefully, Hermione pulled her mouth free of him, holding back a giggle when he jolted from the motion against his oversensitive head. She lifted her whole body off of him and turned around, allowing her to collapse on her pillow as well. 

Their breathing slowly fell back under control, leaving them in a contented silence. But Hermione’s thoughts were happy to fill the quiet space. Draco had gotten her off twice now, both times waiting for her express permission. He had never forced himself on her like she’d expected. Every interaction was kind and courteous, and every conversation was engaging and worthwhile. 

It didn’t take Hermione’s genius to realize she really actually liked Draco. And maybe a not so small part of her was excited to experience more with him.