Chapter Text
Hermione’s vision is pitch black.
Her hands were tied behind the chair she sat on. The rope biting into her wrist.
Rationally, she knew they had agreed to this. Emotionally, she was a mess and on edge about—well everything.
Bella liked Hermione like this though. Bound. Tied up. Immobile.
Hermione liked it too. Being trapped.
But that never elevated the anxiety when they played like this. When Bellatrix purposely provoked her. Pushed her toward the edge—egging her on.
A rut was not something to play with.
So naturally it was exactly what Bellatrix loved to experiment with. She was wicked through and through.
Like this—tied up and completely at Bella’s mercy.
To make matters worse, the chill of the room did nothing to temper the heat radiating from her bare skin. Hermione always ran hot, but especially during her ruts she felt like a blazing furnace.
Then the clicking of heels.
Hermione felt her heart speed up. Anticipation. Excitement. Lust.
The heels stopped. Somewhere next to her. Maybe in front of her. She couldn’t be sure.
That was the whole point. It made her buzz.
“Well aren’t you just a pretty package.”
Hermione flushed.
She’d make a snarky response—if she wasn’t gagged.
They had spoken about that too.
It was Hermione’s idea. The last thing she wanted to think about was *talking*.
Then—a hand across her shoulder. Caressing. Light. Barely even there.
Hermione flinched.
Bella chuckled—breathy, just near the crest of her ear.
“Jumpy are we.”
Bella was enjoying this. Of course she was.
Sharp nails continued their path.
The nape of her neck.
The valley of her spine—each knob of her vertebrae.
The wing of her scapula.
Then—finally--down the center of her sternum.
Bella was teasing her. Bella wanted her feral and knew just how to drive Hermione there—Hermione was already there.
Body primed with anticipation. Pulled tight like a rope ready to snap. Or a snake waiting to lunge towards its prey.
Her rut was just the cherry on top. It didn’t make her angry, or possessive like others, no—it made her easy. Disgustingly easy.
Those nails continued further. Drifting lower and lower, stopping just before where Hermione wanted them.
“Excited, are we.” Bella stated.
Not a question. Because Bella already knew.
Hermione wrestled against her bonds. Tried to cant her hips towards those fingers that pressed just above her waist. It was useless. Her hand was too far away.
Bella had Hermione right where she wanted her.
Then—Hermione’s head snapped back, neck exposed. Bare to what were no doubt hungry eyes.
Hermione sharply inhaled. Made an embarrassingly weak sound against the fabric in her mouth that sounded too pleading to her own ears.
Merlin she had no control here.
She loved it.
Craved it.
Only grew hungrier as teeth teasingly bit at the exposed skin of her throat.
Bella did not hold back. Hungrily attacking the skin there like her bites could cure her. Claiming the flesh as her own.
In a manner of speaking, Hermione was Bella’s. The permanent bite mark in the crook of her neck assured that.
Hermione whimpered.
There was no point in holding back now. Not when she wanted this like fish needed water. Not when her rut was at its peak and Hermione barely could form a rational thought beyond the words of—
More.
Please.
Yes.
Hermione hated begging. Everyone knew that. Hermione knew that Bellatrix knew that. But here the only way Hermione was going to get anything was from begging. Submitting.
Hermione canted her hips again. Once. Twice. The third time--Bella laughed against her neck, lips curling.
Then pressure. Or relief. Both. That teasing hand at her navel finally had traveled further. Gripping her where she ached the most.
Bella’s hand was soft. It always amazed Hermione how soft Bella’s skin was compared to the sharp edgy and sometimes intimidating appearance she carried.
“Is this what you wanted pet.” Bella whispered.
Hermione couldn’t think. Not with Bella finally touching her. Helping to relieve the tightly cinched tension that had built up from all her teasing and waiting.
So Hermione moaned.
Yes.
Please.
More.
“You’re making this too easy.”
Merlin she was already leaking all over Bella’s hand. The slippery glide of Bella’s hand coming easier now with her slick. Faster.
“You’re not going to fight it at all?” Hermione could see the arched eyebrow and smirk from the tone alone.
Teeth nipped at her shoulder. Harder. Causing pain this time. Distracting.
And Bella’s hand stopped moving.
For a second it worked.
Hermione felt that edge she had been deliciously working up to move a step further away.
Enough for the moans to turn into growls. And for her to resist the grip in her hair to straighten her head. To become more aware of pressure.
She was still painfully aching in Bella’s palm.
Then came the urges.
Bite.
Mate.
Mine.
Suddenly the chair was incredibly uncomfortable. Hermione’s thighs tensed. She wanted to move. To rise and take what was her’s. She pulled at the ropes binding her wrists.
They didn’t budge.
Hermione huffed.
Fingers once threaded through her hair moved to her throat—clasping, squeezing. Not tight. But enough for the pressure to be noticed.
“That’s better.”
And it was because Bella’s hand was moving again. And this time she didn’t stop.
She worked Hermione back up to that delicious edge while her lips pressed against Hermione’s ear whispering the filthiest of things.
“That’s a good pet.”
“Keep still for me.”
“You’re so beautiful like this.”
“Not yet, stay right there.”
Not vulgar. Never that. But they made Hermione feel—dirty. Bad. Naughty.
Exposed.
Bella drew it out. Knew just what to say to build Hermione up and how to back her off.
Always made sure that Hermione was held at the precipice of bliss. Always just a bit longer than Hermione desired. Always just as pleasure became slightly twinged with pain.
Then with one final squeeze at her throat and a hiss.
“Show me pet. Show me you’re mine.”
Hermione fell into bliss. That already tight rope Bella had been pulling on snapping clean.
Hermione’s hips bucked wildly. Her bindings holding her open as she fought to curl in at the immense pleasure and euphoria that pulsed through her.
For a long while she floated there.
Heart thrumming loudly in her own ears.
Body tense.
Breath fast.
Bella slowly drawing out all Hermione had to give and then some. And Hermione continued to give.
Only when a thumb brushes over her overstimulated tip ending in more pain than pleasure did Hermione softly mew in protest.
A breathy laugh.
Then light as the blindfold was pulled free.
It was dark in their living room, some gaudy townhouse Bellatrix had inherited, but the introduction of light still made Hermione squint and look down—
Right at Bellatrix..
Kneeling before her naked. Dark curls draped across her bare chest, dark brown eyes locked on Hermione as she wiped her wet hand on the carpet.
That was going to be a bother later.
“Good?” Bella checked.
Hermione weakly nodded, still gagged.
“Splendid—we’re not done yet.”
Merlin save her—or don’t.
Hermione kind of liked where this was going.