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hp_ssc_fest2010-08-31 10:51 am
hpsscmods) wrote in hp_ssc_fest2010-08-31 10:51 am
Fic: An Element of Fun (Hermione/Minerva) by songquake
Title: An Element of Fun
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
songquake
Pairing/Character(s): Minerva/Hermione
Rating: NC–17
Contains: Femslash, D/s, role–play, sensation play, sex toys, Muggle discipline including bondage, caning, slapping, scolding, orgasm denial.
Word count: 4961.
Summary: Revising has never been like this before.
Author notes: First, I want to thankldymusyc for creating a fest that stresses the consensual aspect of BDSM, breaking down the confusion between assault/rape/torture and kink. Also for working with me at the very end to make the fic as enjoyable as possible!
Second, I want to thank my awesome beta team ofaigooism and luvscharlie. Girls, thanks for your cheerleading, love, comma intervention,intelligibility checks, and willingness to help me during this "Hell Week of Fic Deadlines."
Hermione shivered as Minerva tied a knot around the centre of the loops binding her wrists, creating cuffs tight enough to prevent her from tugging out of them but loose enough to permit blood to flow when the bonds were tugged upward. The long ends of bamboo rope were currently slack in the pulley screwed into a beam traversing and supporting the ceiling of their shared bedroom, but Hermione harboured neither illusions nor hope that it would remain so. In fact, she was using all her self–restraint to keep from raising her arms above her head. No need to displease the Professor with my eagerness before The Game has even started.
The Game was one of her favourites: maintain poise and intelligence through whatever pleasant torture her Mistress desired to inflict, and accept progressively severe punishment for every time she lost her composure. The two had started playing The Game not long after they'd discovered that the ever–growing spark between them was more than mere sexual tension. Rather, the electricity, the magic that took place was the ignition of one another's most taboo desires, soul calling to kinky soul.
Holding Hermione's gaze, Minerva wrapped the loose ends around pegs she'd transfigured from ornamental leaves on the bedpost. She slid the rope slowly and smoothly through the pulley.
Doing things the Muggle way, or mostly the Muggle way, gave these sorts of scenes an even more archaic and elaborate feel.
As she stood, feet apart and directly under her shoulders, Hermione cursed the agonising pace of her wrists' journey from waist–height to the point at which they were nearly high enough to drag her to her toes. The tightening of the rope's slack not only pulled her arms toward the ceiling, but pulled blood from her heart to her nipples and vulva. She knew she was wet already; she wondered how large her clitoris had grown, whether it peeked through its hood yet.
"Are you still standing comfortably, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired, the intensity of her stare giving the lie to her businesslike tone. Her eyes communicated tenderness along with domination and a fiery desire for the woman at her mercy. Minerva's eyes travelled over Hermione's body again, finally resting on the bushy hair that had been tamed into a ponytail.
The young woman's intellect and spirit, on the other hand, were just nearly indomitable.
The challenge of dominating, teasing, and punishing Hermione Granger electrified her so, she was required to practice ever greater self–control. Not to mention that it trained her imagination to be both supple and subtle.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said confidently, embracing the particular role tonight's Game was to prepare her for: a fully–qualified witch giving oral defence of her dissertation for her Double Mastery in Potions and Transfiguration. Whose bare feet were still planted firmly on the wooden floor.
"Then we begin," Minerva said and stepped forward, encircling Hermione with her linen–covered arms. She preferred wearing summer–weight robes when playing with her lover: all the better to feel you with, my dear. The slightly rough weft of the fabric would also heighten Hermione's sense of touch, awakening her nerves for what was to come.
Minerva kissed her young lover, tracing the cupid's bow of her lips with tongue, drawing her body close as she thrust that tongue into Hermione's mouth, tracing over its counterpart inside. Just as Hermione was beginning to respond with enthusiasm, Minerva let go, stepping back so that Hermione's heels, which had risen so that she could push herself closer, fell harshly to the floor.
"Please state your name and the title of your dissertation for the examining board," Minerva said, managing to sound detached as she twirled her wand through her fingers.
Hermione knew she was flushed, her face hot, her lips swollen. I asked for this. "Professors, my name is Hermione Jean Granger, and I am here to defend my dissertation: Liquid to Solid Transfiguration and its Application in the Transport of Potions." She smiled, glad that she had been able to make the statement without any stammering or quaver in her voice. So far, so good.
With a swish and flick, a quill rose from Minerva's bedside table and floated to where Hermione was bound. Minerva used her wand to direct the quill's plume in random patterns along Hermione's belly, then moved behind her sweet plaything so that she could have the quill caress her back.
"Please give us a brief summary of your study and conclusions," she said, and the quill slid down Hermione's spine to tickle just inside her bum's split.
Trying not to twitch, Hermione began to speak. "Following Nicolas Flamel's theory of alchemical transformation, these experiments attempted to determine whether it is possible to transfigure liquid potions into non–reactive solid forms, and then to transfigure them back into their precise original state."
The plume had trailed almost through her crack on its way downward and had begun to make its way slowly, very slowly, down her right inner thigh.
"Your conclusions, Miss Granger?" Minerva snapped, pinching the sensitised skin below Hermione's pubis between her fingernails.
Hermione drew a sharp breath, sharp like her pinches, trying to keep her breathing and heartbeat steady.
"The results of these experiments revealed that, in order to be effective, the Muggle–described Law of Conservation of Matter and Energy must be taken into account. It seems –" she gasped as Minerva bit her other thigh before soothing it with her tongue, "– disregard or disdain for Muggle research and scientific theory has been a barrier to Wizarding researchers investigating the mutability and transitive properties of magical objects."
Hermione paused to take a breath before continuing. Minerva returned to the first thigh and bit, hard. Hermione's breath broke off on a high pitch.
Kneeling back, Minerva admired the marks she had left. The desire in her belly coiled and purred. She did so like symmetry. It appealed to her love of order.
Shakily, Hermione carried on. "Once matter and energy's obligation to remain stable within a single system was accounted for, the question became one of how to restore the magical energy released by the potion during its transfiguration into a solid object." Minerva slid her hands up Hermione's hips and settled them on her waist before putting her own head between her lover's breasts and breathing deeply. "Alternately, we might need to release magical energy absorbed from the environment by the potion as it is transfigured."
Minerva's lips closed around Hermione's left nipple, and she began to suck, nip and tease, allowing her mouth to be filled with breast as she bore down to capture it all.
Hermione valiantly pressed on.
"The precise process", she shuddered, "varies depending on the compositions of both materials as well as the complete function of the potion, both purpose – " Minerva bit down on the nipple, and Hermione bit down on her lip, " – and side–effects."
Minerva bit the other nipple, and, as she began to suck it, allowed a hand to dip between her protégé's spread legs. She drew out two fingers' of Hermione's juices, sucking one of them before using the other to paint the bound woman's lips.
"The complete data from the experiments can be found in Appendices C through F," Hermione finished, breathless and clearly proud of herself. Minerva licked the juices from her lips.
The Professor stepped back. "Your experiments and conclusions are truly astonishing, Miss Granger," she said, resuming her businesslike interrogator's mien. "We have several questions regarding both your research and further application."
Minerva watched Hermione try to rub her thighs together without moving her feet. Silly child, she thought. "The first question is from Professor Marchbanks."
Hermione whined softly in disappointment.
Minerva slapped her. Stepping close once more, she hissed into Hermione's ear. "Do you want to stop The Game? Do you want to cry for mercy, to give in? Should I interrupt your examination for a few good switches?"
Hermione set her mouth in a determined line. Her cunt was hot, twitchy. She wanted to feel something there, something stimulating her clit, something filling her channel. The reward when we finish The Game will be very much worth the wait. The reward when we finish The Game will be very much worth the wait. The reward when we finish The Game will be very much worth the wait.... "I wish to continue, Professor. I apologise for my distraction and leave it to the Board to determine an appropriate consequence."
"Indeed," Minerva said, an index finger tapping her thin lips as she considered the next step. "You shall be punished while you continue. You shall receive ten raps with the cane, thank me for the correction, and recite the ingredients to the first potion you managed to transfigure while receiving them."
Minerva looked into Hermione's widened eyes and gave her a wicked smile.
"Are you ready to proceed, Miss Granger?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione whispered.
"And you shall need to speak louder than that, young lady! We should all be able to hear what potion ingredients you first worked with!" She began to stroke Hermione's backside from knee to the small of her back with the length of her thinnest rattan cane.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied, this time in earnest. Minerva let the cane cut through the air and plant itself in Hermione's arse.
CRACK!
Hermione gasped. Hot! Guh! "Thank you, Professor. The first potion with which we experimented was the Standard Boil Cure, the first potion taught to First–Year students at Hogwarts."
The cane whistled as Minerva swung it through the air and cracked a second welt across the centre of Hermione's cheeks.
CRACK!
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, louder this time. "Dried nettles!"
CRACK!
Hermione felt the moisture from her pussy begin to drip through her hair. "Thank you, Professor," she moaned. "Crushed snake fangs!"
CRACK!
The next two strikes came close on the heels of one another, parallel just below her bum. "Aii!" Hermione cried, and tried to wrap her hands in the rope for comfort. "Thank you, Professor. Horned slugs, stewed!"
Minerva surveyed the damage thus far. Her arse looks very tasty like this. Beautiful, the red on white... I want these marks to claim her. Her own cunt pulsed, her nipples poking into the rough linen of her robes.
Hermione filled the silence of Minerva's contemplation. "Porcupine quills!"
Minerva laid a back–handed diagonal stripe across each arsecheek and wondered what Hermione would say now that she'd run out of ingredients.
"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione shrieked. She grasped at the formula, memorised all those years ago, another reason to use it for this exercise. "With a mortar and pestle, grind the nettles into the fangs!"
Ah, thought Minerva. She is telling me how to use the ingredients. Clever girl. Stepping to Hermione's other side, she landed two diagonal stripes facing the other way across her cheeks.
These four stripes, taken together, formed a rough 'M'.
She owns me, she owns me, she owns me. Take me more, make me take more... Hermione's brain was shouting a mantra that threatened her concentration on the potion.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione cried. "Over medium heat, slowly add the ground mixture to the stewed slugs."
She tensed her bum, knowing that the next stripe would be her last. This session.
With the loudest whistle yet, Minerva laid the final mark deep across Hermione's arse, right below the first stripe she'd received.
"Ah!" Hermione fairly sobbed. "Thank you, Professor. After 30 anti–clockwise stirs with a crystal rod, remove the cauldron from the fire and add the porcupine quills. Let it sit for ten minutes before stirring once, clockwise. When the potion has cooled and turned grey, it will be ready for use as a boil–curing paste."
Minerva laid the cane on their table of toys before walking behind Hermione and pressing her own body into the bound woman's back. She stroked downward from Hermione's waist to her mons veneris and dipped her fingers in.
"That was an excellent description of how to make a simple boil cure. Now please tell us, why did you and your team choose to start with that one?" Her index finger began to slowly circle Hermione's clitoris. The smell of her lover wafted upwards.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione moaned. She tried to come back to herself, grateful that the question had a specific answer.
She felt the professor's teeth dig into the juncture of neck and shoulder, and tilted her head to offer more of her neck. She whimpered helplessly.
SMACK! Minerva showed her displeasure at the delay in answer by spanking Hermione's labia and clitoris. "Why did you choose that potion to go first?" she hissed into Hermione's right ear and stepped back, noting the way her lover's body tried to follow.
Frustrated, Hermione remained barely civil. "It is a simple potion; any eleven–year–old at Hogwarts can brew it. Its power comes almost exclusively through the interactions of the ingredients and the intention of the brewer, rather than from spells, so there are fewer variables to track. Also, I had become interested in this sort of interdisciplinary study – Potions and Transfiguration – during the war. My companions and I were forced – oh!" Hermione moaned as Minerva bit the other side of her neck from behind. "We were forced to carry everything we needed to survive for a year. I was, therefore, most interested in the stabilisation and easy transport of – ungh! " – Minerva moved her head back to the right side and bit it as well – "Healing and Nutritive Potions."
Minerva's fingers moved back into Hermione's slick folds and held still for a moment.
"Now, Miss Granger." Minerva McGonagall spoke authoritatively as she began to tease, rubbing not–quite–hard–enough to induce climax. "Before some more technical questions, is there anything in your paper which you would amend at this time?"
Hermione breathed slowly as she considered the question. "Yes, Professor," she said with forced evenness. "It's small, but it has become apparent since the submission –" Minerva circled slightly faster at that incredibly sexy word "—of my dissertation that I ought to have emphasised that the precise procedures for transfiguration of specific potions vary greatly, and that while the techniques all follow the same theory, ascertaining the correct series of spells and ingredients to use requires a lot of trial–and–error."
Minerva pushed hard against Hermione's clit, causing her to shudder, then let go. Hermione failed to stop her squeak with her deep breathing.
Letting her hand begin to rock in and out of Hermione's vagina, Minerva lowered the tone of her voice to rasp, "Miss Granger. I trust that the messy and difficult task of attempting to do what many Potions Masters" –she spat out the words just as Severus Snape would have done in his prime – "thought impossible was not the only course of study you considered. If you'd not settled on this... unlikely quest, what else might you have studied?"
Hermione shivered at the combination of Minerva's Snape impression and the long fingers slowly fucking her cunt. I should never have told her I'd had fantasies about Severus, too! She gripped the ropes again.
"Thank you, Professor Snape," she responded shakily. "I'd either have studied ways to circumvent the First Principal Exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration or the history of Wizard relations with Magical Creatures during the Burning Times."
Minerva sniffed, continuing with her impersonation. "And you settled on this because...?"
"It seemed both attainable and useful, sir," Hermione responded, rocking her own hips to get more contact with the Professor's hand. "I would like to only do research that serves a purpose. Though I might want to have been able to conjure food when we were living on non–magical herbs and fungi in the Forest of Dean, I do believe that conjuring food out of thin air would violate both Gamp's law and the Muggle law of physics on which I have based the research we are here to discuss."
Minerva was amazed at the girl's ability to maintain her composure and fiery focus that well whilst actively humping her fingers. It made her want to bring out her PhenomPhallusTM and fuck her former student's brains out. Or it would, if she would demean herself by using such language. She did find herself longing to explode, her cunt pulsing and damp inside her knickers.
But now was the time of control: control of Hermione, of course, but also control of her own base desires. There would be plenty of time for such satisfaction later.
"Now, to get back to the question from Professor Marchbanks," she continued, then raised and softened the pitch of her voice. "My dear," Minerva summoned her quill once more and walked around Hermione to face her. "How would one assess exactly how much energy needs to be returned to the stabilised potion to render it useful again, and how would you suggest the average wizard or witch be able to measure that amount of energy exactly?"
As Hermione opened her mouth to respond, Minerva began to run the tip of the feather up from Hermione's pudendum in a line through her navel and between her breasts.
Hermione pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and began to answer. "That is, indeed, tricky. At first, we used the coarse and unreliable method of using 'the same amount of magical energy as before' when trying to transfigure the object back into the potion. Basically, we were estimating how much energy we'd felt ourselves expending."
Minerva brushed first Hermione's left breast, then her right, with the broad side of the feather.
Hermione swallowed.
"Clearly, that wasn't good practice. We were, later, fortunate enough to be allowed to use one of the prototype MCal–o–Meters invented by George Weasley to measure the potential magical energy – in magical calories, or MCals – of the potion before and after its transfiguration." She squeaked as Minerva abruptly scratched at the underside of a breast with the quill's nib. "The difference between the two would be the energy expended or accrued during transfiguration. The MCal–o–Meter was also able to measure the potential physical energy – in kilocalories, or KCals – so that we would see how much of this was lost or added during the transfiguration as well."
Minerva sent the quill back to her desk and wrapped her arms loosely around Hermione. She whispered to her young lover, "And how could you replace any physical energy that was lost?"
"Electricity," Hermione murmured back as Minerva's sharpened fingernails scratched up and down her back. Remembering herself, she cleared her throat. "We found that it was possible to use an electrical current from a Muggle battery to 'recharge' the potion with any physical energy that had been expended."
"And are you ready to expend some physical energy now, Hermione?" Minerva asked. Really, between Hermione's intelligence and responsiveness, she didn't think she could hold back any longer.
"Oh, yes, Professor," Hermione said huskily.
The Professor in question pulled back, grabbed Hermione's chin, and looked her hard in the eye. "Minerva," she said.
"Minerva," Hermione whispered, eyes wide and clear. Yet Minerva could see that her former student's pupils were still blown.
Leaving Hermione hanging for the moment, Minerva walked to her bureau and withdrew her PhenomPhallusTM from its special box atop it.
She let Hermione watch her place the Phallus on the bed, then faced her lover and began to unbutton her linen robes. She wore nothing underneath, of course; she was not so caught up in the fantasy as to pretend that she wasn't planning to take advantage of the fact that her beautiful partner was naked and bound before her.
When all the buttons were liberated from their holes, Minerva shrugged the robe off, carelessly letting it fall to the floor.
Hermione's inhalation was musical.
Nude, Minerva walked over to the pegs on which she'd tied the rope's end and carefully unwound it, fingers hooking around the tense end so that it did not slip through the pulley and drop Hermione too quickly.
When the rope was safely untied, Minerva slackened it. With the slack, Hermione bent her knees, straightened them, and then sank to them, her hamstrings and shoulders aching from their prolonged positions. She held her wrists out to be unbound and winced as the blood returned to them.
As Minerva deftly dispensed with the bindings, she looked Hermione in the eye. "And what is it that you want now, Hermione?" she asked, her voice low, reminding Hermione of what she could be like as a cat.
"I... Please... Minerva, I want... I want to taste you," Hermione murmured, finally succumbing to the haze of her submission to the powerful witch. She could barely form a thought; knowing that she no longer had to focus on the theme of her dissertation, she felt a bit lost. Lost, but eager to please.
Sensing that Hermione was in her so–called 'happy space', Minerva continued to purr, but with a certain edge of authority. "Really, Hermione. All you want is to taste me? There's nothing you want me to do to you?"
"Mm, I would like to come, Minerva... I'm so wet for you..."
"You certainly are. What do you want?"
"To lick your clit, Minerva. And have you rub me off. But mostly to make you feel good." She raised her head as Minerva took both her hands and led her to the bed.
"Sit."
Hermione sat. Minerva sat behind her, straddling her and playing lightly with her breasts again.
"Have you earned a reward tonight, Hermione? Do you deserve to get what you want?"
Hermione craned her head back, looking to Minerva for the right answer. "Do I?" she asked.
"No, Hermione. You did not maintain your composure throughout your examination with me. You moaned, and humped, and whinged. You deserve spankings, not treats." Minerva spoke kindly, as she would to an eleven–year–old receiving her first detention for something careless.
Hermione shuddered, but moved as to lie across Minerva's lap. Minerva raised her hand to touch Hermione's bare belly.
"No, dear. What would please me most is to slide into you right now and save your punishment or reward for after you present your defence." She stood and led Hermione around the bed so that she could recline amidst their squashy pillows. As Hermione reached out to pull her down, Minerva raised her index finger and stepped away so she could reach her PhenomPhallusTM.
With Hermione watching, she positioned the Phallus, emerald green like her family's traditional tartan, over her pubis, sliding its hollow over her clit and incanting the charm that would activate it. This Phallus was called Phenom not only because of the alliteration, but because it would both transfer the sensations on its skin to the clit, finger, or tongue in the hollow, and allow the wearer to control the movement and pulsation of the phallus once it was secure.
Minerva loved it. She'd seen the dildos that Muggles had to work with and was quite pleased with the magical alternative, thank–you–very–much.
The smooth, green column firmly attached, Minerva licked her fingers and used them to massage the tip. She gave a small moan that, she knew, always ignited Hermione's passion. Extra details for my Hermione, since she will not be getting what she wants tonight.
Hermione almost never climaxed from penetration alone. Minerva planned to use this detail as an extra incentive for Hermione the next day.
As Minerva sat on the edge of the bed, Hermione reached out again. This time, her lover reached back and let herself be pulled down. She swung her legs over, sliding a knee between Hermione's legs, and gathered the supine woman into her arms. Hermione relished the contact, the comfort of being held. When Minerva leaned in to kiss her, Hermione responded eagerly, wanting Minerva to feel all that she was, all she wanted to give, in that kiss. She wanted to explore Minerva's mouth, but restrained herself. This was a kiss of letting herself be utterly owned; her tongue would only leave her own mouth when it was invited to do so.
Minerva sucked on Hermione's tongue in encouragement, and the two licked, kissed, and sucked at one another's lips, tongues, mouths with enthusiasm. She allowed herself to press her own breasts into Hermione's beneath her, cradled with one another and clinging like the teeth of a zipper. As Hermione's arms squeezed tighter around her shoulders, Minerva felt the legs beneath her open, the hips beneath her start to thrust for contact. That was fine with her clit, which was frustrated at the casual way its Phallus attachment had been dismissed thus far. Or at least, her clit would be frustrated if it had its own emotions. As it was, Minerva was ignoring the mild frustration of having an over–sensitised clit in order to continue her very easy conquest.
"I am going to slip into you now, Hermione," Minerva said softly into her lover's ear. "I am going to slip into you and kiss your face and show you how much I care by making love to you and bringing you much pleasure. But you shall not come. Do you understand?"
Hermione's hips continued to thrust up and down on the bed. She panted, "Yes, Minerva. Please... please... take me...own me...."
Kissing across Hermione's face from ear to ear, Minerva reached under her to position the PhenomPhallusTM at Hermione's between Hermione's lower lips. She slid it up and down in the slick vulva, making sure that it made contact more than once with Hermione's clit. Hermione continued to pant and continued to moan as Minerva manoeuvred the Phallus around her labia. She opened her legs wider, arching off the bed in search of Minerva's Phallus.
Biting the top of Hermione's left breast, Minerva slid in.
When Minerva returned from teaching her last class the next afternoon, she was greeted by the sight of Hermione Granger, naked and kneeling in the centre of their bed. Her hair was windswept, eyes and cheeks aglow, and there was a scroll on the bed between her spread knees.
She gave Minerva an unabashed grin, as if she couldn't help herself but didn't want to, anyway.
"What's all this?" Minerva asked, knowing the answer. Still, it was important to maintain the structure of the scene, if this was, indeed, the continuation of yesterday's performance.
Hermione giggled. "Professor, I am pleased to present you with my Certificate of Double Mastery in Potions and Transfiguration. I sat my dissertation defence earlier today and passed. With," she paused for effect, "distinction."
"Oh, yes? Well, it would seem that congratulations are in order, Miss Granger."
"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione beamed.
"And how did it feel, this defence of your hard work?"
"It was challenging, but not nearly as challenging as it would have been if I had been sexually teased throughout the exam."
"I would imagine," the Professor said dryly.
"And I was excited – not only that way! – to do it, Professor. It was fascinating to hear what their questions were and to engage in intelligent discussion about where I might take my research now that I have the freedom and access that the Double Mastery grants me."
Minerva nodded stiffly. A much as she supported Hermione, she felt jealous of the persons who would get to see Hermione whilst she travelled to do research. "Well, you shall have to tell me all about it during dinner."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, her brow wrinkling slightly.
"Now, Miss Granger, would you care to explain this... display you have made of yourself?" Minerva finally moved to approach the bed, sitting on a corner near Hermione, but not near enough to be touching.
Hermione blushed. "I, er, am prepared to complete the scene we began yesterday with regards to this exam, Professor."
"Hmm," Minerva commented as she reached toward her lover. With one hand, she skimmed up the inside of Hermione's thigh. She dipped her fingers into Hermione's vulva, already wet with anticipation. "I can see. You are very prepared."
She lifted her fingers to her own lips, causing Hermione to gasp.
"Now, we must be reasonable. You did not receive the fullness of your punishment yesterday. But today, perhaps, ought to be a day of pure celebration. In honour of your new," Minerva coughed for emphasis, "Mastery, perhaps you ought to decide how the rest of the afternoon shall go." She grabbed Hermione's chin, looking hard into her eyes once more.
"Yes, please, Professor," Hermione breathed.
"Well, what shall it be: Forty spankings over my knee before you taste me and I let you orgasm, or another postponement of your punishment so that we can commence lovemaking immediately?"
Hermione laughed breathlessly. Only her lover, her Professor–lover, could make the process of sexy play sound so clinical.
"Professor, I would like to take my punishment immediately. I would love to feel my arse become almost uniformly red under your hands, so that the welts from yesterday fade into it. And I would also love to have that reminder of how lucky I am to earn pleasure whilst we pleasure one another," Hermione's cheeks and chest were stained a deep pink by the time she finished her speech.
She looked at her Professor, her love, for approval.
Minerva was staring back, a smirk growing on her face, a wicked gleam in her eye.
Abruptly, she stood and walked over to a straight–backed wood chair. "Well? Come, then. Let us commence your punishment so that we might move on to more... pleasant activities," she said.
Uncurling her legs from beneath her arse, Hermione swung them off the bed and fairly bounced over to her Professor.
Oh, yes, she thought. I did ask for this. And what a brilliant request!
Author:
songquakePairing/Character(s): Minerva/Hermione
Rating: NC–17
Contains: Femslash, D/s, role–play, sensation play, sex toys, Muggle discipline including bondage, caning, slapping, scolding, orgasm denial.
Word count: 4961.
Summary: Revising has never been like this before.
Author notes: First, I want to thank
ldymusyc for creating a fest that stresses the consensual aspect of BDSM, breaking down the confusion between assault/rape/torture and kink. Also for working with me at the very end to make the fic as enjoyable as possible! Second, I want to thank my awesome beta team of
aigooism and luvscharlie. Girls, thanks for your cheerleading, love, comma intervention,intelligibility checks, and willingness to help me during this "Hell Week of Fic Deadlines."In every job that must be done,
There is an element of fun.
You find the fun, and
SNAP! the job's a game—"A Spoonful of Sugar": Mary Poppins
Hermione shivered as Minerva tied a knot around the centre of the loops binding her wrists, creating cuffs tight enough to prevent her from tugging out of them but loose enough to permit blood to flow when the bonds were tugged upward. The long ends of bamboo rope were currently slack in the pulley screwed into a beam traversing and supporting the ceiling of their shared bedroom, but Hermione harboured neither illusions nor hope that it would remain so. In fact, she was using all her self–restraint to keep from raising her arms above her head. No need to displease the Professor with my eagerness before The Game has even started.
The Game was one of her favourites: maintain poise and intelligence through whatever pleasant torture her Mistress desired to inflict, and accept progressively severe punishment for every time she lost her composure. The two had started playing The Game not long after they'd discovered that the ever–growing spark between them was more than mere sexual tension. Rather, the electricity, the magic that took place was the ignition of one another's most taboo desires, soul calling to kinky soul.
Holding Hermione's gaze, Minerva wrapped the loose ends around pegs she'd transfigured from ornamental leaves on the bedpost. She slid the rope slowly and smoothly through the pulley.
Doing things the Muggle way, or mostly the Muggle way, gave these sorts of scenes an even more archaic and elaborate feel.
As she stood, feet apart and directly under her shoulders, Hermione cursed the agonising pace of her wrists' journey from waist–height to the point at which they were nearly high enough to drag her to her toes. The tightening of the rope's slack not only pulled her arms toward the ceiling, but pulled blood from her heart to her nipples and vulva. She knew she was wet already; she wondered how large her clitoris had grown, whether it peeked through its hood yet.
"Are you still standing comfortably, Miss Granger?" Minerva inquired, the intensity of her stare giving the lie to her businesslike tone. Her eyes communicated tenderness along with domination and a fiery desire for the woman at her mercy. Minerva's eyes travelled over Hermione's body again, finally resting on the bushy hair that had been tamed into a ponytail.
The young woman's intellect and spirit, on the other hand, were just nearly indomitable.
The challenge of dominating, teasing, and punishing Hermione Granger electrified her so, she was required to practice ever greater self–control. Not to mention that it trained her imagination to be both supple and subtle.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said confidently, embracing the particular role tonight's Game was to prepare her for: a fully–qualified witch giving oral defence of her dissertation for her Double Mastery in Potions and Transfiguration. Whose bare feet were still planted firmly on the wooden floor.
"Then we begin," Minerva said and stepped forward, encircling Hermione with her linen–covered arms. She preferred wearing summer–weight robes when playing with her lover: all the better to feel you with, my dear. The slightly rough weft of the fabric would also heighten Hermione's sense of touch, awakening her nerves for what was to come.
Minerva kissed her young lover, tracing the cupid's bow of her lips with tongue, drawing her body close as she thrust that tongue into Hermione's mouth, tracing over its counterpart inside. Just as Hermione was beginning to respond with enthusiasm, Minerva let go, stepping back so that Hermione's heels, which had risen so that she could push herself closer, fell harshly to the floor.
"Please state your name and the title of your dissertation for the examining board," Minerva said, managing to sound detached as she twirled her wand through her fingers.
Hermione knew she was flushed, her face hot, her lips swollen. I asked for this. "Professors, my name is Hermione Jean Granger, and I am here to defend my dissertation: Liquid to Solid Transfiguration and its Application in the Transport of Potions." She smiled, glad that she had been able to make the statement without any stammering or quaver in her voice. So far, so good.
With a swish and flick, a quill rose from Minerva's bedside table and floated to where Hermione was bound. Minerva used her wand to direct the quill's plume in random patterns along Hermione's belly, then moved behind her sweet plaything so that she could have the quill caress her back.
"Please give us a brief summary of your study and conclusions," she said, and the quill slid down Hermione's spine to tickle just inside her bum's split.
Trying not to twitch, Hermione began to speak. "Following Nicolas Flamel's theory of alchemical transformation, these experiments attempted to determine whether it is possible to transfigure liquid potions into non–reactive solid forms, and then to transfigure them back into their precise original state."
The plume had trailed almost through her crack on its way downward and had begun to make its way slowly, very slowly, down her right inner thigh.
"Your conclusions, Miss Granger?" Minerva snapped, pinching the sensitised skin below Hermione's pubis between her fingernails.
Hermione drew a sharp breath, sharp like her pinches, trying to keep her breathing and heartbeat steady.
"The results of these experiments revealed that, in order to be effective, the Muggle–described Law of Conservation of Matter and Energy must be taken into account. It seems –" she gasped as Minerva bit her other thigh before soothing it with her tongue, "– disregard or disdain for Muggle research and scientific theory has been a barrier to Wizarding researchers investigating the mutability and transitive properties of magical objects."
Hermione paused to take a breath before continuing. Minerva returned to the first thigh and bit, hard. Hermione's breath broke off on a high pitch.
Kneeling back, Minerva admired the marks she had left. The desire in her belly coiled and purred. She did so like symmetry. It appealed to her love of order.
Shakily, Hermione carried on. "Once matter and energy's obligation to remain stable within a single system was accounted for, the question became one of how to restore the magical energy released by the potion during its transfiguration into a solid object." Minerva slid her hands up Hermione's hips and settled them on her waist before putting her own head between her lover's breasts and breathing deeply. "Alternately, we might need to release magical energy absorbed from the environment by the potion as it is transfigured."
Minerva's lips closed around Hermione's left nipple, and she began to suck, nip and tease, allowing her mouth to be filled with breast as she bore down to capture it all.
Hermione valiantly pressed on.
"The precise process", she shuddered, "varies depending on the compositions of both materials as well as the complete function of the potion, both purpose – " Minerva bit down on the nipple, and Hermione bit down on her lip, " – and side–effects."
Minerva bit the other nipple, and, as she began to suck it, allowed a hand to dip between her protégé's spread legs. She drew out two fingers' of Hermione's juices, sucking one of them before using the other to paint the bound woman's lips.
"The complete data from the experiments can be found in Appendices C through F," Hermione finished, breathless and clearly proud of herself. Minerva licked the juices from her lips.
The Professor stepped back. "Your experiments and conclusions are truly astonishing, Miss Granger," she said, resuming her businesslike interrogator's mien. "We have several questions regarding both your research and further application."
Minerva watched Hermione try to rub her thighs together without moving her feet. Silly child, she thought. "The first question is from Professor Marchbanks."
Hermione whined softly in disappointment.
Minerva slapped her. Stepping close once more, she hissed into Hermione's ear. "Do you want to stop The Game? Do you want to cry for mercy, to give in? Should I interrupt your examination for a few good switches?"
Hermione set her mouth in a determined line. Her cunt was hot, twitchy. She wanted to feel something there, something stimulating her clit, something filling her channel. The reward when we finish The Game will be very much worth the wait. The reward when we finish The Game will be very much worth the wait. The reward when we finish The Game will be very much worth the wait.... "I wish to continue, Professor. I apologise for my distraction and leave it to the Board to determine an appropriate consequence."
"Indeed," Minerva said, an index finger tapping her thin lips as she considered the next step. "You shall be punished while you continue. You shall receive ten raps with the cane, thank me for the correction, and recite the ingredients to the first potion you managed to transfigure while receiving them."
Minerva looked into Hermione's widened eyes and gave her a wicked smile.
"Are you ready to proceed, Miss Granger?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione whispered.
"And you shall need to speak louder than that, young lady! We should all be able to hear what potion ingredients you first worked with!" She began to stroke Hermione's backside from knee to the small of her back with the length of her thinnest rattan cane.
"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied, this time in earnest. Minerva let the cane cut through the air and plant itself in Hermione's arse.
CRACK!
Hermione gasped. Hot! Guh! "Thank you, Professor. The first potion with which we experimented was the Standard Boil Cure, the first potion taught to First–Year students at Hogwarts."
The cane whistled as Minerva swung it through the air and cracked a second welt across the centre of Hermione's cheeks.
CRACK!
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, louder this time. "Dried nettles!"
CRACK!
Hermione felt the moisture from her pussy begin to drip through her hair. "Thank you, Professor," she moaned. "Crushed snake fangs!"
CRACK!
The next two strikes came close on the heels of one another, parallel just below her bum. "Aii!" Hermione cried, and tried to wrap her hands in the rope for comfort. "Thank you, Professor. Horned slugs, stewed!"
Minerva surveyed the damage thus far. Her arse looks very tasty like this. Beautiful, the red on white... I want these marks to claim her. Her own cunt pulsed, her nipples poking into the rough linen of her robes.
Hermione filled the silence of Minerva's contemplation. "Porcupine quills!"
Minerva laid a back–handed diagonal stripe across each arsecheek and wondered what Hermione would say now that she'd run out of ingredients.
"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione shrieked. She grasped at the formula, memorised all those years ago, another reason to use it for this exercise. "With a mortar and pestle, grind the nettles into the fangs!"
Ah, thought Minerva. She is telling me how to use the ingredients. Clever girl. Stepping to Hermione's other side, she landed two diagonal stripes facing the other way across her cheeks.
These four stripes, taken together, formed a rough 'M'.
She owns me, she owns me, she owns me. Take me more, make me take more... Hermione's brain was shouting a mantra that threatened her concentration on the potion.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione cried. "Over medium heat, slowly add the ground mixture to the stewed slugs."
She tensed her bum, knowing that the next stripe would be her last. This session.
With the loudest whistle yet, Minerva laid the final mark deep across Hermione's arse, right below the first stripe she'd received.
"Ah!" Hermione fairly sobbed. "Thank you, Professor. After 30 anti–clockwise stirs with a crystal rod, remove the cauldron from the fire and add the porcupine quills. Let it sit for ten minutes before stirring once, clockwise. When the potion has cooled and turned grey, it will be ready for use as a boil–curing paste."
Minerva laid the cane on their table of toys before walking behind Hermione and pressing her own body into the bound woman's back. She stroked downward from Hermione's waist to her mons veneris and dipped her fingers in.
"That was an excellent description of how to make a simple boil cure. Now please tell us, why did you and your team choose to start with that one?" Her index finger began to slowly circle Hermione's clitoris. The smell of her lover wafted upwards.
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione moaned. She tried to come back to herself, grateful that the question had a specific answer.
She felt the professor's teeth dig into the juncture of neck and shoulder, and tilted her head to offer more of her neck. She whimpered helplessly.
SMACK! Minerva showed her displeasure at the delay in answer by spanking Hermione's labia and clitoris. "Why did you choose that potion to go first?" she hissed into Hermione's right ear and stepped back, noting the way her lover's body tried to follow.
Frustrated, Hermione remained barely civil. "It is a simple potion; any eleven–year–old at Hogwarts can brew it. Its power comes almost exclusively through the interactions of the ingredients and the intention of the brewer, rather than from spells, so there are fewer variables to track. Also, I had become interested in this sort of interdisciplinary study – Potions and Transfiguration – during the war. My companions and I were forced – oh!" Hermione moaned as Minerva bit the other side of her neck from behind. "We were forced to carry everything we needed to survive for a year. I was, therefore, most interested in the stabilisation and easy transport of – ungh! " – Minerva moved her head back to the right side and bit it as well – "Healing and Nutritive Potions."
Minerva's fingers moved back into Hermione's slick folds and held still for a moment.
"Now, Miss Granger." Minerva McGonagall spoke authoritatively as she began to tease, rubbing not–quite–hard–enough to induce climax. "Before some more technical questions, is there anything in your paper which you would amend at this time?"
Hermione breathed slowly as she considered the question. "Yes, Professor," she said with forced evenness. "It's small, but it has become apparent since the submission –" Minerva circled slightly faster at that incredibly sexy word "—of my dissertation that I ought to have emphasised that the precise procedures for transfiguration of specific potions vary greatly, and that while the techniques all follow the same theory, ascertaining the correct series of spells and ingredients to use requires a lot of trial–and–error."
Minerva pushed hard against Hermione's clit, causing her to shudder, then let go. Hermione failed to stop her squeak with her deep breathing.
Letting her hand begin to rock in and out of Hermione's vagina, Minerva lowered the tone of her voice to rasp, "Miss Granger. I trust that the messy and difficult task of attempting to do what many Potions Masters" –she spat out the words just as Severus Snape would have done in his prime – "thought impossible was not the only course of study you considered. If you'd not settled on this... unlikely quest, what else might you have studied?"
Hermione shivered at the combination of Minerva's Snape impression and the long fingers slowly fucking her cunt. I should never have told her I'd had fantasies about Severus, too! She gripped the ropes again.
"Thank you, Professor Snape," she responded shakily. "I'd either have studied ways to circumvent the First Principal Exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration or the history of Wizard relations with Magical Creatures during the Burning Times."
Minerva sniffed, continuing with her impersonation. "And you settled on this because...?"
"It seemed both attainable and useful, sir," Hermione responded, rocking her own hips to get more contact with the Professor's hand. "I would like to only do research that serves a purpose. Though I might want to have been able to conjure food when we were living on non–magical herbs and fungi in the Forest of Dean, I do believe that conjuring food out of thin air would violate both Gamp's law and the Muggle law of physics on which I have based the research we are here to discuss."
Minerva was amazed at the girl's ability to maintain her composure and fiery focus that well whilst actively humping her fingers. It made her want to bring out her PhenomPhallusTM and fuck her former student's brains out. Or it would, if she would demean herself by using such language. She did find herself longing to explode, her cunt pulsing and damp inside her knickers.
But now was the time of control: control of Hermione, of course, but also control of her own base desires. There would be plenty of time for such satisfaction later.
"Now, to get back to the question from Professor Marchbanks," she continued, then raised and softened the pitch of her voice. "My dear," Minerva summoned her quill once more and walked around Hermione to face her. "How would one assess exactly how much energy needs to be returned to the stabilised potion to render it useful again, and how would you suggest the average wizard or witch be able to measure that amount of energy exactly?"
As Hermione opened her mouth to respond, Minerva began to run the tip of the feather up from Hermione's pudendum in a line through her navel and between her breasts.
Hermione pursed her lips, took a deep breath, and began to answer. "That is, indeed, tricky. At first, we used the coarse and unreliable method of using 'the same amount of magical energy as before' when trying to transfigure the object back into the potion. Basically, we were estimating how much energy we'd felt ourselves expending."
Minerva brushed first Hermione's left breast, then her right, with the broad side of the feather.
Hermione swallowed.
"Clearly, that wasn't good practice. We were, later, fortunate enough to be allowed to use one of the prototype MCal–o–Meters invented by George Weasley to measure the potential magical energy – in magical calories, or MCals – of the potion before and after its transfiguration." She squeaked as Minerva abruptly scratched at the underside of a breast with the quill's nib. "The difference between the two would be the energy expended or accrued during transfiguration. The MCal–o–Meter was also able to measure the potential physical energy – in kilocalories, or KCals – so that we would see how much of this was lost or added during the transfiguration as well."
Minerva sent the quill back to her desk and wrapped her arms loosely around Hermione. She whispered to her young lover, "And how could you replace any physical energy that was lost?"
"Electricity," Hermione murmured back as Minerva's sharpened fingernails scratched up and down her back. Remembering herself, she cleared her throat. "We found that it was possible to use an electrical current from a Muggle battery to 'recharge' the potion with any physical energy that had been expended."
"And are you ready to expend some physical energy now, Hermione?" Minerva asked. Really, between Hermione's intelligence and responsiveness, she didn't think she could hold back any longer.
"Oh, yes, Professor," Hermione said huskily.
The Professor in question pulled back, grabbed Hermione's chin, and looked her hard in the eye. "Minerva," she said.
"Minerva," Hermione whispered, eyes wide and clear. Yet Minerva could see that her former student's pupils were still blown.
Leaving Hermione hanging for the moment, Minerva walked to her bureau and withdrew her PhenomPhallusTM from its special box atop it.
She let Hermione watch her place the Phallus on the bed, then faced her lover and began to unbutton her linen robes. She wore nothing underneath, of course; she was not so caught up in the fantasy as to pretend that she wasn't planning to take advantage of the fact that her beautiful partner was naked and bound before her.
When all the buttons were liberated from their holes, Minerva shrugged the robe off, carelessly letting it fall to the floor.
Hermione's inhalation was musical.
Nude, Minerva walked over to the pegs on which she'd tied the rope's end and carefully unwound it, fingers hooking around the tense end so that it did not slip through the pulley and drop Hermione too quickly.
When the rope was safely untied, Minerva slackened it. With the slack, Hermione bent her knees, straightened them, and then sank to them, her hamstrings and shoulders aching from their prolonged positions. She held her wrists out to be unbound and winced as the blood returned to them.
As Minerva deftly dispensed with the bindings, she looked Hermione in the eye. "And what is it that you want now, Hermione?" she asked, her voice low, reminding Hermione of what she could be like as a cat.
"I... Please... Minerva, I want... I want to taste you," Hermione murmured, finally succumbing to the haze of her submission to the powerful witch. She could barely form a thought; knowing that she no longer had to focus on the theme of her dissertation, she felt a bit lost. Lost, but eager to please.
Sensing that Hermione was in her so–called 'happy space', Minerva continued to purr, but with a certain edge of authority. "Really, Hermione. All you want is to taste me? There's nothing you want me to do to you?"
"Mm, I would like to come, Minerva... I'm so wet for you..."
"You certainly are. What do you want?"
"To lick your clit, Minerva. And have you rub me off. But mostly to make you feel good." She raised her head as Minerva took both her hands and led her to the bed.
"Sit."
Hermione sat. Minerva sat behind her, straddling her and playing lightly with her breasts again.
"Have you earned a reward tonight, Hermione? Do you deserve to get what you want?"
Hermione craned her head back, looking to Minerva for the right answer. "Do I?" she asked.
"No, Hermione. You did not maintain your composure throughout your examination with me. You moaned, and humped, and whinged. You deserve spankings, not treats." Minerva spoke kindly, as she would to an eleven–year–old receiving her first detention for something careless.
Hermione shuddered, but moved as to lie across Minerva's lap. Minerva raised her hand to touch Hermione's bare belly.
"No, dear. What would please me most is to slide into you right now and save your punishment or reward for after you present your defence." She stood and led Hermione around the bed so that she could recline amidst their squashy pillows. As Hermione reached out to pull her down, Minerva raised her index finger and stepped away so she could reach her PhenomPhallusTM.
With Hermione watching, she positioned the Phallus, emerald green like her family's traditional tartan, over her pubis, sliding its hollow over her clit and incanting the charm that would activate it. This Phallus was called Phenom not only because of the alliteration, but because it would both transfer the sensations on its skin to the clit, finger, or tongue in the hollow, and allow the wearer to control the movement and pulsation of the phallus once it was secure.
Minerva loved it. She'd seen the dildos that Muggles had to work with and was quite pleased with the magical alternative, thank–you–very–much.
The smooth, green column firmly attached, Minerva licked her fingers and used them to massage the tip. She gave a small moan that, she knew, always ignited Hermione's passion. Extra details for my Hermione, since she will not be getting what she wants tonight.
Hermione almost never climaxed from penetration alone. Minerva planned to use this detail as an extra incentive for Hermione the next day.
As Minerva sat on the edge of the bed, Hermione reached out again. This time, her lover reached back and let herself be pulled down. She swung her legs over, sliding a knee between Hermione's legs, and gathered the supine woman into her arms. Hermione relished the contact, the comfort of being held. When Minerva leaned in to kiss her, Hermione responded eagerly, wanting Minerva to feel all that she was, all she wanted to give, in that kiss. She wanted to explore Minerva's mouth, but restrained herself. This was a kiss of letting herself be utterly owned; her tongue would only leave her own mouth when it was invited to do so.
Minerva sucked on Hermione's tongue in encouragement, and the two licked, kissed, and sucked at one another's lips, tongues, mouths with enthusiasm. She allowed herself to press her own breasts into Hermione's beneath her, cradled with one another and clinging like the teeth of a zipper. As Hermione's arms squeezed tighter around her shoulders, Minerva felt the legs beneath her open, the hips beneath her start to thrust for contact. That was fine with her clit, which was frustrated at the casual way its Phallus attachment had been dismissed thus far. Or at least, her clit would be frustrated if it had its own emotions. As it was, Minerva was ignoring the mild frustration of having an over–sensitised clit in order to continue her very easy conquest.
"I am going to slip into you now, Hermione," Minerva said softly into her lover's ear. "I am going to slip into you and kiss your face and show you how much I care by making love to you and bringing you much pleasure. But you shall not come. Do you understand?"
Hermione's hips continued to thrust up and down on the bed. She panted, "Yes, Minerva. Please... please... take me...own me...."
Kissing across Hermione's face from ear to ear, Minerva reached under her to position the PhenomPhallusTM at Hermione's between Hermione's lower lips. She slid it up and down in the slick vulva, making sure that it made contact more than once with Hermione's clit. Hermione continued to pant and continued to moan as Minerva manoeuvred the Phallus around her labia. She opened her legs wider, arching off the bed in search of Minerva's Phallus.
Biting the top of Hermione's left breast, Minerva slid in.
When Minerva returned from teaching her last class the next afternoon, she was greeted by the sight of Hermione Granger, naked and kneeling in the centre of their bed. Her hair was windswept, eyes and cheeks aglow, and there was a scroll on the bed between her spread knees.
She gave Minerva an unabashed grin, as if she couldn't help herself but didn't want to, anyway.
"What's all this?" Minerva asked, knowing the answer. Still, it was important to maintain the structure of the scene, if this was, indeed, the continuation of yesterday's performance.
Hermione giggled. "Professor, I am pleased to present you with my Certificate of Double Mastery in Potions and Transfiguration. I sat my dissertation defence earlier today and passed. With," she paused for effect, "distinction."
"Oh, yes? Well, it would seem that congratulations are in order, Miss Granger."
"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione beamed.
"And how did it feel, this defence of your hard work?"
"It was challenging, but not nearly as challenging as it would have been if I had been sexually teased throughout the exam."
"I would imagine," the Professor said dryly.
"And I was excited – not only that way! – to do it, Professor. It was fascinating to hear what their questions were and to engage in intelligent discussion about where I might take my research now that I have the freedom and access that the Double Mastery grants me."
Minerva nodded stiffly. A much as she supported Hermione, she felt jealous of the persons who would get to see Hermione whilst she travelled to do research. "Well, you shall have to tell me all about it during dinner."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, her brow wrinkling slightly.
"Now, Miss Granger, would you care to explain this... display you have made of yourself?" Minerva finally moved to approach the bed, sitting on a corner near Hermione, but not near enough to be touching.
Hermione blushed. "I, er, am prepared to complete the scene we began yesterday with regards to this exam, Professor."
"Hmm," Minerva commented as she reached toward her lover. With one hand, she skimmed up the inside of Hermione's thigh. She dipped her fingers into Hermione's vulva, already wet with anticipation. "I can see. You are very prepared."
She lifted her fingers to her own lips, causing Hermione to gasp.
"Now, we must be reasonable. You did not receive the fullness of your punishment yesterday. But today, perhaps, ought to be a day of pure celebration. In honour of your new," Minerva coughed for emphasis, "Mastery, perhaps you ought to decide how the rest of the afternoon shall go." She grabbed Hermione's chin, looking hard into her eyes once more.
"Yes, please, Professor," Hermione breathed.
"Well, what shall it be: Forty spankings over my knee before you taste me and I let you orgasm, or another postponement of your punishment so that we can commence lovemaking immediately?"
Hermione laughed breathlessly. Only her lover, her Professor–lover, could make the process of sexy play sound so clinical.
"Professor, I would like to take my punishment immediately. I would love to feel my arse become almost uniformly red under your hands, so that the welts from yesterday fade into it. And I would also love to have that reminder of how lucky I am to earn pleasure whilst we pleasure one another," Hermione's cheeks and chest were stained a deep pink by the time she finished her speech.
She looked at her Professor, her love, for approval.
Minerva was staring back, a smirk growing on her face, a wicked gleam in her eye.
Abruptly, she stood and walked over to a straight–backed wood chair. "Well? Come, then. Let us commence your punishment so that we might move on to more... pleasant activities," she said.
Uncurling her legs from beneath her arse, Hermione swung them off the bed and fairly bounced over to her Professor.
Oh, yes, she thought. I did ask for this. And what a brilliant request!